#when i left the animal hospital it was mutually understood for so long that all i really had to do was say 'yeah it's happening now'

[whimsicalskeleton]

.

[memes-saved-me]

No mirrors. That was the rule if Billy was going to stay with Steve after being discharged from intensive care. Gone or covered up for when he got there. A demand that threw Steve because Billy had always had mirrors around, looked for his reflection in car windows and television screens. Not anymore.

It wasn't until Steve saw him walking out of the hospital exit that he understood why, he knew himself that he would feel exactly the same way. His hair completely gone, hia hands shaking as he opened the passenger door and slipped inside carefully. That was when he truly understood the reasoning, his face.

His once perfectly even tanned complexion replaced by a scar running across from his left cheek, over his nose and just missing his right eye splitting his eyebrow in half. Raw and red contrasting with his now pale skin, still healing like the rest of him. His cheeks more hollow than Steve remembered, his shoulders smaller and the fire in his eyes completely gone.

This was the shell of the boy who once beat him half to death. The same boy who challenged his every move, watched him for a year at a distance. Except, it wasn't him. Not anymore.

It wasn't like he was the first option for where he would go. Joyce had left town before he was released, Hopper gone and Max refusing to let him return home. Her reasoning being a valid argument that Steve couldn't disagree with.

They weren't enemies, just not really friends but at a mutual understanding. The kind of understanding that somehow leads to a very confusing hand job in the toilets at prom, which would have definitely went further if someone hadn't banged on the door needing a drunken shit.

Steve had thought of visiting, for that moment's sake but Max had turned him away. Explained he didn't want anyone to see him, something he now understood. So he stayed away, asked for updates and eventually offered his spare bedroom for him to hide in until....well whatever was next.

A hey and a thanks were exchanged before Steve took off for home, nothing else being said until Billy followed Steve through the front door with his hood thrown up, eyes glued to the floor.

"Thanks for this," He said, almost whispered as Steve put his bags down.

"No problem, man."

The Mindflayer had swallowed up Billy Hargrove, a boy filled with fear and rage only to spit him back out barely recognisable. He'd had a run down of his medical file, chlorine and bleach to the stomach means so strong foods for a long time. Temporary brain damage that faded but could reoccur if he has an episode caused by some sort of trigger or PTSD. Damage to his lungs causing asthma and frequent attacks. A list of medication and appointments up until next year.

It was a miracle he was standing there. Different but alive.

On the third day into his stay Steve caught a glance at his body as he climbed out of the shower with the door half open. Scars running up his sides, an explosion on white tissue on his chest and back. What looked almost like white vines crawling up his arms to his elbows. No mirrors made more and more sense the more Steve saw.

Billy didn't sleep, if he did he woke up yelling for help. Causing Steve to instinctively come running along the landing to see if he was alright, only to find him curled in a ball with streams of tears down his cheeks.

It was gut wrenching to see him like this, his life now a living nightmare he couldn't escape and all Steve could do was feed him and check his meds. That was until one night as he turned to leave he heard; "Wait."

"Do you need a drink or something?" Steve replied.

"Stay with me. Please," For the first time since he had picked him up their eyes met.

"Okay."

At first he crawled in beside him and turned over to face away from the boy, the feelings he was still trying to figure out. Then he began sleeping in his bed every night, running his fingers down his back to calm him. Eventually their fingers entwined, bodies getting closer and closer until their faces were mere centimetres apart in the darkness of the spare bedroom.

"You know prom?" Steve asked, Billy eyes fluttering open.

"Yeah."

"I think about it a lot you know?"

"Really? I thought you were too drunk to remember all that," Billy replied and Steve shifted his body closer.

"I wanted it to keep going."

"Oh," Billy breathed and looked away for a second.

"I think I like you.. a lot."

There was a silence, the kind that makes you want to shove whatever you had just said right back into your mouth and run away to Spain.

"I've liked you since I got here. I was just drunk enough to actually try it at prom so when you went with it I thought it was going to happen again but," This was the most he had spoken in two weeks. "Then summer happened and well..."

"Really?" Steve asked. "Do you still like me?"

"Yeah."

It was as if his body moved before his brain could process it. Their lips met soft, gentle. Just long enough to remind Steve of that toilet stall. "Wow."

"But my face...my body..it's-."

"It's what? Scarred? Injured and healing? So what?" Steve interrupted him.

After that Billy began to smile every so often, at dumb jokes or whenever Steve walked past him. Billy moved into Steve's room, their bodies now pressed up against eachother to help stop the night terrors. Which it somehow did, expect for the odd few that nearly sent Steve flying out of bed with his heart in his throat.

The scars didn't fade but the idea of their hideousness did, ever so gradually with Steve's help. Every late night lying entwined half naked and exhausted as he traced the white lines on his chest helped more than he would ever know. Every nice word used to describe them, every sharpy line making them into pictures of badly drawn animals making Billy laugh. Smile.

Still no mirrors. A rule that fully added itself up when Billy confessed it wasn't just his appearance but the memories of staring at himself trying to figure out what was happening to him. Watching the reflection of himself put Heather into the bathtub, catch glimpses of himself in the rear view mirror of his car. So no mirrors it was, at least for now.

But that was more than fair considering how far he bad come, his hair growing in patchy and awkward but neither of them cared because it really didn't matter. His doctor explained it would simply he up to his body how long it took to fix itself, a fact Billy nodded along to and later groaned about during the ride back home.

Domestic bliss at times, horrible and scary at others. Some nights filled with laughter, others with tears and worry. Highs and lows but the lows becoming less and less frequent as time went on.

A whispered I love you so much and a returned I love you more than anything I could have ever imagined shared under a blanket in the dark. Followed by slow and careful sex. The only kind Billy could manage but this was different. A moment to remember. Just another in the many they had already shared, along with the many to come.

[m-y-fandoms]

[SDR2 Girls] x selectively mute reader - imagines

Request: SDR2 Girls reacting to hearing a selectively mute S/O speak for the first time, please!!

Sure thing! Also, so that more people can relate and read this with themselves in mind, if you want to, you can read this as an s/o who simply doesn’t talk often due to shyness, idk. I wrote it with selectively mute in mind like the request says though. Also, some of these take place in SDR2, some in DR3 the anime, in Hope’s Peak Academy. - Admin Kokichi

Warnings: selectively mute reader, implied past trauma, self-hate and doubt, insecurities, mild and not in detail, always resolved with fluff.

Mahiru Koizumi

     “(S/O), what do you think of these ones?” Your loving, strong-willed girlfriend, Mahiru Koizumi splayed out a bunch of photos before you, carefully ordering them in a particular way and looking to you with an almost nervous anticipation in her eyes that was uncharacteristic of her. She stood behind you, looking over your shoulder anxiously. She valued your opinion highly, above most of the artists and creative minds she’d become acquainted with in her years of expert-level photography.

     Your eyes scanned the pictures thoughtfully, appreciating every inch, every focal point, every hidden meaning. You took in the composition, the symbolism, the saturation. Your girlfriend was so passionate, so gifted, and far too hard on herself. Slowly, your brows raised. She took this expression immediately to mean disapproval, and began to defend herself.

     “I know, I know. I was trying to do a series here. It was a new concept I’m trying... a bit too bold I think for now. I should stick to just quality headshots for the time being, that was my last concept. Following the first photo, the rest were suppose to connect and flow like a story but I understand if it’s not coming through-” you interrupted her speedy string of words, the shield she put around herself and her work.

     “This is the best one yet!” Your mouth hung open, lost in the colors. Your eyes swam, bouncing from polaroid to polaroid.

     “No, be honest because like-” Her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “(S-S/O)???” She spun you around to face her, tears at the corners of her eyes. She pulled you into her chest, nearly squeezing the life out of you. All doubts about her work went out the window. If it was good enough to make you speak, it was good enough for her.

     She left little pecks all over your cheeks, and insisted of taking a photo to remember this moment.

Peko Pekoyama

     Being rather quiet and reserved herself, Peko didn’t mind your timid nature. She knew of trauma, seeing much of it growing up in the yakuza way of life. She had trauma of her own, and had caused others great trauma in the line of duty, protecting her Young Master. Once she’d started dating you officially, she’d become your sword and your shield, quite literally as well as emotionally. She didn’t need words. She knew how you felt, when to back off, when you needed comfort. Being intuitive, preceptive, strong-willed and incredibly intelligent made her your perfect defender, your rock. 

     She was used to you pointing, signing, even drawing out your feelings at times, and didn’t need to know what your voice sounded like to love you, but when you spoke up, breaking your silence, for her sake nonetheless, she held back tears, eyes glistening.

     “Peko, I worry that you’re not happy sometimes… the Kuzuryuu’s overwork you. I want you to be happy.” You’d been sitting across from her in the dining hall, just the two of you all alone, Fuyuhiko having ordered her to fuck off for the day. Your voice was small, gentle, barely existent, but it was there. Her intense, scarlet eyes flew up to your mouth, sure her mind was playing tricks on her. She could tell from your posture and expression the past hour that you’d had something on your mind. Something was bothering you, but surely that hadn’t prompted actually speech?

     “(S/O)... did you just speak to to me?” Peko spoke concisely, purposefully like always. You nodded nervously. Maybe you’d overstepped by bringing up her line of work or the Kuzuryuu clan. It wasn’t your place. She’d been doing that far longer than you’d been with her.

     At your reply, the swords-woman merely closed her eyes pensively, almost appearing to be in a state of meditation. A small, barely noticeable smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was elated, ecstatic that you’d chosen to speak for her, that you loved and trusted her this much, but she wasn’t one to make a big scene of things.

     “I appreciate your concern for me, but no matter how hard I work, being with you makes me happy, preforming my duties make me happy. I’m sorry if I ever gave you reason to doubt either of those facts.” Her steady, confident hand reached out and stroked your back lovingly. You smiled, leaning into her touch.

Ibuki Mioda

     Ibuki talked enough for the both of you. You found comfort in the way she could endlessly hold a conversation where you could not. She made friends with ease and people loved her. Sometimes you feared that you held her back, that your quiet personality and baggage from your past was a grey stain on her neon spirit.

     Despite your doubts, Ibuki never hesitated to show her love for you. She held your hand all the time, regardless of if you needed that physical comfort at the moment. She carried the conversations, easily rolling with your signing, gesturing, and nods. She never forced you, never pushed your barriers, taking you completely as you are. You’d seen her bite people, scream, pull people away into her manic fantasies and crazy ideas, but with you she was a bit more patient, reserved.

     “Ibuki... w-why do you go easy on me? You’re so wild and free with e-everyone else... I hope I’m not holding y-you back,” you stuttered, fighting back tears. You weren’t really in the mood to talk, but this question had been burning in the back of your mind for too long. Ibuki’s fiery eyes widened. Her hands flew to her cheeks in a state of amazement and awe. You smiled sheepishly at her, completely in love with how passionate and alive she was at all times.

     “Whaaaa?! (S/O)!!! Your voice is like, totally adorable!!! Ibuki love-love’s it!” She ran over to you and wrapped her arms snuggly around your waist before jumping up and down in place, ignoring your actual question completely. 

     That was your Ibuki.

     “But-”

     “You think Ibuki goes easy on you!?!?! Perish the thought, oh lovey dovey lover of mine! If this is going too easy on you, I can go harder!!!!” She pulled away, shredding an air guitar in front of you with her teeth gritted in false exertion. You could tell she was purposely ignoring your second comment, the one about you holding her back. Ibuki didn’t like to focus on the negative, and her not answering your silly, nonsense question was her was of saying it was in fact a silly, nonsense question. She loved you, and she wanted to be with you.

     No if, and’s, or but’s about it.

Mikan Tsumiki

     Mikan was rushing back and forth, cleaning up messes, doing paperwork, organizing her backpack. The nurse’s office would be a hell hole without her. Hope’s Peak wasn’t even paying her for her endless duties as the nurse’s assistant, which was an outrage in your mind already, but then she spent every day fretting over homework, her studies, her friends, her job, and your relationship with her. It was criminal, the stress life put on that girl.

     Today was no different. Mikan had been to class, the to the nurse’s office to tend to ill students, then back to class, then lunch, and now here she was again, nearly in tears as she tidied up the actual nurse’s files in-between writing her own notes and research. She never let up on researching and perfecting her ultimate talent, and feared letting down anyone in her life, whether they deserved her attention or not.

     You sat on a hospital bed behind your frantic girlfriend, watching her struggle with a lump in your throat. You technically weren’t allowed to just be here unless you were sick, but the nurse hardly ever did her job, so she would never find out. Mikan sat before you, her cheeks wet and a grimace seemingly permanently etched into her face. You couldn’t take it any more. You stood, walking over to her and grabbing the files and pen from her hand. She let out a small yelp of surprise, so entranced with her work that she didn’t even notice your approach. You placed the cursed objects down, and wrapped your arms around her tightly.

     “Mikan, please. You need to slow down. You can’t keep working this hard.” Your voice shook, jittery as you buried your head into her shoulder. She jumped, startled by your actions. 

     “(S-S-S/O)! Y-you just spoke! You just spoke to m-me!” She froze, excited, anxiety-ridden, surprised, overwhelmed all at the same time. “Your voice is s-so cute! S-Sorry! Sorry if that’s weird to say!” Her bandaged hands reached up, grasping onto your forearms embracing her chest.

     “It’s not weird, but did you hear me?” It was imperative to you that she understood, that she agreed to pace herself, to put herself first from now on. You couldn’t watch her stress herself into an early grave any longer. With her already existing tendency to trip and fall clumsily, she didn’t need this constant stress and exhaustion to cause even more accidents.

     “Y-yes. Yes. I heard you. I’m sorry for not answering. I’m so s-stupid! I should’ve b-ben listening closer, eh!” She shook her head frantically, holding back tears. You only squeezed her tighter.

     “You’re not stupid. I love you, Tsumiki.” She stiffened up, then began to sob loudly, snot and tears rolling down her face. These words were so new to her, so unfamiliar. She didn’t feel like she deserved your love, but yes, she loved you, too.

     She loved you more than herself, more than work or school, more than nursing.

     More than life itself.

Hiyoko Saionji

     You loved Hiyoko, you really did, but she got on even your nerves at times. Your relationship with her started as one mutual respect, a kind of unspoken agreement that she would be little nicer to you than she was to others. She liked you, physically and mentally. She found you attractive in every way, and showed it the only way she could at first: by teasing, by bullying you, but you never responded, never gave her the satisfaction of a response. She liked that. Well, she hated it outwardly. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t get a rise out of you, but inside her admiration for you only grew with every exchange.

     She started to treat you like a best friend, an older sibling like Mahiru, and loved that you could keep up with her, that you weren’t intimidated by her, or at least if you were, you didn’t show it. She eventually pushed her pride aside enough to ask you out, wanting to make you hers before anyone else could, and you accepted, but again, it didn’t mean she didn’t get on your nerves from time to time.

     Today in particular, she was trying your patience. Everything you did, she complained about or belittled. She was teasing you, in some horrible mood today, demeaning everything move you made. You’d been spending the entire day together, and it was going a little something like this:

You went to the diner, she criticized your choice of food.

You went to the beach house, she made fun of the way you bonked your head off a surf board in the storage room.

You swam at the beach with some of your classmates, she pointed out the silly way your wet clothes clung to your body.

     Now you were back in your cabin with her, just shooting the breeze and making small talk, when she waltzed out of your bathroom with something in her hands. Something of yours.

     “What is this? I didn’t know you were this kind of pervert! Gross!” She cackled, holding up a pair of your underwear that were, let’s just say, maybe a more flashy and indulgent... not for daily or casual use. You’d discarded them just before your shower the night before, and forget that you’d simply left them on the bathroom tiles.

     You felt your cheeks heat up as she feigned disgust, swinging the garments around while continuing to comment and mock you loudly. You fists began to shake, and your blood felt like it was boiling.

     “Can’t you ever just give it a fucking break, you little troll?!” You marched forward, snatched the underwear from her hand, snarling inches from her face. A look of shock and horror crossed her face, and you both stood there, frozen for a few moments. Then, impishly, mischievously, her hand slipped up to cover her mouth, and she smirked devilishly.

     “Well, well, it’s about time you showed some back bone. Put me in my place, pervert~!” She giggled maniacally, stroking your cheek with one hand. “That was kinda hot.” Your cheeks continued to heat up, but now it was more from a flustered feeling in the pit of your stomach rather than anger

Chiaki Nanami

     You’d been dating Chiaki for a long while now. You guys went together like peanut butter and jelly. She was quiet, a bit lazy, low maintenance, and didn’t require you to speak endlessly... or ever really. She didn’t talk much herself, but she would when she needed to. You see, Chiaki could’ve been the ultimate empath, in her own right. She could feel for others, support them, comfort them, read their hearts, give the best advice. When it came to the things that really mattered, she was never one to slack off and be lazy. She was your perfect match.

     What’s more, her main hobby and passion, gaming, often didn’t require any speech, any communication at all. You either watched her play, resting your head in her lap silently, or during co-op, the game either guided you with tutorials, or Chiaki herself did all of the talking, looking to you for nods of confirmation. You two spent hours upon days upon weeks like that, just enjoying one game after the next. She often even let you choose the game, loving all genres herself.

     Today was the day: you were going to finally tell her how you feel. You were going to work up the courage and speak your heart. Of course, Chiaki knew you cared about her, and you knew she cared about you... but was it love? Did she really love you, or were you just comfortable, easy to deal with, her little outlet for social interaction? Were you just best friends, platonic soul-mates with the false label of a romantic relationship? Today you’d find out.

~

     You and Chiaki sat in her dorm as usual, in the dark with only a screen lighting her face gently. A soft blue glow softened her adorable features, and you felt your heart flutter. God you loved her so much...

     Scooting closer to her on the ground, you placed your head into her lap, heart beating at the speed of light.

     “Chiaki?” You spoke quietly, gently, anxiously.

     “Hmm?” she hummed in acknowledgement, her fingers never halting their rapid movements on the controller in her hands.

     “I... I love you.” You inhaled sharply and held that breath, heart thrashing violently against your ribcage. You waited eagerly for a response that you both desperately needed and were terrified to hear.

     Chiaki simply smiled warmly, the sounds of gunshots and a level-up in your ears as you waited. She didn’t make a big deal of your speaking. She knew it would come eventually, when you were ready and comfortable.

     “I love you, too, (S/O).” She gently stroked your hair with one hand, reassuring and calming you, masterfully owning the battlefield with just one spare hand.

Sonia Nevermind

     “I just don’t see why the others won’t try it out with me! You’d think even one of them would be interested!” You sat across from your regal lover, watching her throw her little tantrum in her unique and particular way of speaking. You loved the way she put accents on certain syllables, the way she messed up common lingo or phrases at times. It was so adorable. You couldn’t expect someone who knew dozens of languages to be perfectly fluent in all of them. “You know what I mean?” You nodded enthusiastically, lost dreamily in her eyes.

     She stood, beginning to pace back and forth in the dining hall on the second floor of the restaurant, a clear nobility to her strut. It was clear in her tone that she was used to giving orders, to speaking with purpose so that others would listen with fervor.

     “I mean, all I wanted was to try cosplaying, just once with everyone. Father never let me at home. He says it’s a silly past-time, and gets in the way of my royal duties!” She paused, fists in front of her chest in a gesture of exasperation. You nodded, eyes trailing up and down her milky skin. Wow, how did you get so lucky? “Hajime said he’d feel silly dressing up, Mahiru said she is busy, but I know she is not! Akane said it just wasn’t her thing. How does she even know unless she tries?!” You nodded, watching her chest rise and fall passionately. “I need at least five people to do this! It’s a group cosplay! Why don’t they understand? And Chiaki is nowhere to be found! She’d say yes, I know it!” She stuck one finger out matter-of-factly. Her eyes met yours, and she frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to sound ungrateful. It means a lot that you said you’d do it with me-”

     “You are so beautiful when you’re all riled up...” You spoke, your head resting in your hand lazily. You felt in a daze, so enraptured were you with her aura, her energy. Her eyes widened a bit, before she rushed over to you, cooing and giggling like a fool. “S-Sonia!” Your princess, so strong and bold despite her demure and innocent appearance, scooped you out of your chair and into her arms, twirling you about in the air.

     “Ahaha! My, my! I will have to get riled up more often if I get to hear your voice as a reward, my love!” She nuzzled her button nose against yours, setting your heart aflame.

Akane Owari

     You sat in your room, crying, weeping softly into your blanket. Today had been a horrible day. Not only were you suffering the normal anxiety about being in this killing game, but you were already a naturally stressed person despite that, and today, your insecurities and self-doubt were at an all time high after a savage bullying session from Hiyoko. Your pillow was now soaked, and your body was shaking. Hiyoko really knew how to wound a person at their very core.

     “(S/O)! Check this shit out! Teruteru-” Your lively, protective girlfriend, Akane, came bursting into your room, startling you half to death. She halted in her tracks upon seeing the tears streaking your face and the pink puffiness of your eyes. On her own face, numerous crumbs from various fried meats and sauces from what were no doubt extravagant dishes were displayed proudly, sticking to her chin and cheeks. In her hand was a silver platter of what was unmistakably the offending feast. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Who do I need to beat the shit outta?!” She set the platter on your bed, rushing to your side and hugging you to her ample bosom. You looked up at her, shaking your head softly and wiping some crumbs from her cheek. “Who is it?!” 

     She was starting to get frustrated. You shook your head again. Akane didn’t mean to get mad at you, and truly, she was more upset at the situation than at you. You knew that. Akane was simply a fire-brand: strong, short-tempered, loud and opinionated. You never took her outbursts seriously.

     “So you’re just sad? It’s one of those days? Nothing happened?” You nodded. “Something did happen?” You nodded again. “Gahhhh this is so hard without you talkin’ and shit!” She threw her hands up in the air, fuming until she saw your lip start to tremble, a wetness glossing your eyes. She sighed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Look... you know I love ya, (S/O). I’m sorry for being a loud-mouth asshole. I’m not mad at you.” She squeezed you tight enough to break a bone, but then pulled you away, looking into your eyes deeply. “Who?” Now she was dead serious.

     “Hiyoko...” You nearly whispered, but it was there. Your voice was there. Akane blinked once, twice, her head tilting slightly. Had she heard that right? She was looking for an answer, but she’d never actually prepared for one. Slowly, her shock, rounded out lips turned upward into a devious smirk. She stood, walking briskly toward the door. “Akane-!” You reached out after her. She spun on her heel, hands on her hips.

     “I’m gonna go give that little shit a piece of my fist!” She turned to leave again, a shit-eating grin on her face. Pausing, she twisted around again to face you, pointing her finger toward you with gusto. “And when I come back, I’m gonna ravish you, babe! You better be ready!” And she sprinted out the door, leaving it wide open in her wake.

     Your cheeks had never been so warm.

[for-amoment]

╰ ✧ ˔ ⭒ magic is in the air ! oh wait - that’s just our newest neighbor, MELODY ATLANTICA, the EIGHTEEN year old AQUARIST. they’ve been relocated from pastoral city, and so far the locals claim that they’re INDEPENDENT and INSECURE, just like MELODY from THE LITTLE MERMAID: RETURN TO THE SEA. if you ask me, they seem like the type to enjoy MESSY BANGS AND THE SMELL OF THE SEA. apparently, they are UNSURE about entering rome pines, and i don’t think their power of AQUAPATHY will help them this time. let’s just hope they can adjust to the new neighborhood…⭒˔ ╮

( Trigger Warning: Mentions of Mental Illness, Disease, Parental Death, Bullying, Underage Drinking )

S T O R Y:

She was an accident. They were too young, too dumb - it just happened. Melody’s mother, Marina, was barely eighteen at the time and when she told Geoffrey, Melody’s father, he left abruptly. 

Marina was alone to deal with a difficult pregnancy, in which she struggled with prenatal depression. During this hard time, she heavily relied on the support of her older sister Athena and her husband, Triton. She moved in with them and the couple, with their seven daughters did everything in their power to help the young woman get back on her feet. Grateful and touched by the kindness Athena and Triton showed her, Marina offered them the position of her daughter’s godparents, which they gladly accepted. 

Few weeks before going into labor, the woman decided to buy a locket as a gift for her future daughter. It was beautiful, with their last name engraved on the front and a picture, taken just a few weeks after her birth, inside it. The whole family was together, smiling. Marina decided she’d give it to her on her first birthday.

Melody became, from her first breathe, the apple of Marina’s eye. She just knew she’d do anything for this little baby. If she could choose, she’d never leave her side. But real life came along, and with it, the bills. As Melody completed eight months, the woman took two different jobs to provide for the child. For the first two years of her life, Melody spend most of her time in her godparents house with her cousins and with babysitters. The weekends, however, were exclusively for time with her mother. These were Melody’s favorite days.

Athena’s death was a very painful moment for everyone. Marina made sure to keep close to Triton, to honor her sister’s memory and help him raising his daughters anyway she could. He was thankful to have her, and became something of a protector, a father figure, for both of the girls. They were family. All they had was each other.

Melody was a rather shy and observant child, only allowing herself to open up near people she trusted. It took a while for her to warm up to anyone, but as soon as she did, they could count that her big blue eyes would follow you wherever they’d go. From a young age, she found comfort in being near water. Pulling her off a pool or a bath tub were difficult tasks. Luckily, this was a familiar feeling, that her mother encouraged as best as she could. The first time her mother took her to the beach, her powers manifested. She was three and enchanted to be able to understand all the creatures there. She felt understood by them. She felt like she truly belonged there.

Years passed. They were able to move to a place of their own, not far from Triton and the girls. As Melody started school, Marina got promoted, which allowed her to spend more time with her daughter. They were inseparable, a truly dream team. Nothing could go wrong. Until it did.

It was the day after Melody’s eighth birthday. It started as a series of migraines. A few days latter, some black dots in her vision field. She told herself it was stress, work was asking too much of her. Nothing out of the usual. The symptoms came and go. Until the day she passed out in the middle of the living room. 

It all happened too fast. Melody called her godfather, desperately crying, and minutes later, he was there, driving them to the hospital. The doctors did everything in their power, even magic wise, but they just couldn’t tell what it was. Three months latter, she didn’t resist.

Melody felt like her world was crumbling under her feet. She’d refuse to talk, eat or move, sometimes for days straight. Triton, worried for the girl’s health, made a decision. He hunted Geoffrey, told him his daughter needed him, and after a not-so-friendly conversation, with threats included, he agreed, reluctantly, to take care of her. 

So she moved in with him. It was rough. They were getting to know each other as father and daughter. She had to get used to moving to a new place, a new school, to be far from her godfather and cousins, while still dealing with her grief. He had to get used to having a child around, a challenge he’d never imagine he’d have to deal with. At first Geoffrey tried to be as supportive as he could. He’d help her pick what she wanted to decorate her room, buy her school supplies, drive her to and from Triton’s house to see her family. But it didn’t last long. Their relation became closer to that of two roommates. He was absent most of the time, providing her with money and disappearing for days or even weeks. She was stuck there, alone. Melody learned quickly that she’d have to rely on herself for anything she needed.

That became especially hard once she started in her new school. Her father had enrolled her in a private school and people there weren’t as nice as she hoped. They’d judge everyone by their appearances and their powers. Melody didn’t quite fit in, not really worried about brand materials or how she could make money with the power she had, honestly she’d much rather use her comfortable clothes and spend the afternoon sitting near the water, talking to the animals there. The other students started to bully her, severely. They’d make jokes about her lack of money, her aquatic friends and her dysfunctional family. They’d call her a ‘charity-case’, a ‘weirdo’, a ‘burden’. Little by little, the girl started to believe them.

Melody dreaded going to school, having to talk to other people. She started to daydream of a different reality. When her cousins called and asked about her life, she’d lie. She’d describe one of her illusions and tell them all about how wonderful her father was and how she adapted easily to school. After all, she barely saw her cousins anymore. She didn’t want to burden them with her problems.

By the end of Elementary school, Melody would spend most of her free time alone, walking around the city. She didn’t feel safe at school and didn’t feel comfortable at her father’s house. One of those day, she got lost and ran into a gang of teenagers who tried to rob her. However, they took pity on the young, nervous girl, and decided to welcome her into their group. 

They weren’t the greatest influences, but they would protect her and she finally felt like she belonged somewhere. The group spent most of their time drinking and causing trouble in the street - Melody realized that alcohol made it easier for her to communicate and be friendly. Even though she wasn’t involved in most of the action, learned how to pickpocket someone, to break into cars, and even houses. The group was known as frequent visitors of the police station. Luckily for Melody, she could get away easily, being the younger and having the sympathy of one of the officers who worked there and always let her off with a warning and a mild scolding. Little by little, their group disintegrated. Some were arrested, some just sort of fade away. 

Melody was almost seventeen, and she felt more lost than ever. One afternoon, one of her cousins called presented her with the opportunity of working half-period in the town aquarium. Nothing seemed better for the girl than the chance to spend countless hours near their marine friends and get payed for this. Her powers helped her immensely and as soon as she graduated high school, they offered her the position full time. She accepted, enthusiastically. She was a part of the team. Things were finally starting to look up.

N O W A D A Y S :

The fire took everyone by surprise. It was terrifying. They were evacuated and, overnight, they found themselves in this whole new place - Rome Pines. The government did all they could to help the relocation, but Melody felt the anxiety of having to adapt to a new home, having to meet people setting in.

At first, she looked for her godfather and her cousins and was relived to see they were all safe - for them, the feeling was mutual, once it had been a long time since they last saw the girl. Once she met with her father, they agreed there was no point in living together anymore. He promised to send her some money monthly so she could start her own life and left. This was the last time she saw him. She found a place near the university campus, for the first time after a long time, she had a place where she felt truly at home.

She got to keep her job. Rome Pines aquarium is not a sight to behold, none of that. It’s a very simple place, but at least she’d still have a paycheck while being able to be close to the water and talk to her closest friends.

P E R S O N A L I T Y :

Melody is still very quiet and observant, and sometimes she gets easily lost in her own thoughts and lose track of time. The girl has a sarcastic sense of humor, which doesn’t cross the line to be malicious. She’s not the most sociable person - she spends most of her time by herself and it’s very rare to find her outside without her earphones at max volume - but she’s also very loyal and kind to the people who gain her trust. Melody has an aura of a person who had to grow up too fast, and sometimes people are surprised to learn or be reminded of how young - and fragile - she really is. She’s got a sweet tooth and an addiction to caffeine, and sometimes has to be reminded to have a regular meal instead of just living off take-out fast food and jelly beans. She uses lots of Converses sneakers and wears her mother’s locket around her neck - she never takes it off.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Taco Bout Hospital Service || Queenie and Kaden

TIMING: The late night after the mime stabbing incident PARTIES: @drqueenieking and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Queenie babysits Kaden in the hospital. There’s sass. 

Waking up in the hospital sucked. Kaden wasn’t getting used to this and he hoped to god he wasn’t going to, either. “Regan?” he said her name before he turned over to see if she was there. And, when he looked over, there was no one there. Fair enough. There was no reason she should be chained here just because he was, even if he sort of hoped she’d be there. That said, this might be the one time he had the chance to make a break for it. He did a quick look around. Seemed clear enough. He’d have to figure out where his clothes were, he wouldn’t make it far in just this hospital gown, but fuck if he was staying in this place any longer than he had to. Kaden reached over to yank the IVs out of his arm dramatically as fucking possible for the tenth time tonight. And then someone walked into the room. Putain, hopefully it wasn’t a medical professional. His hand shuffled quickly away and he sat up like nothing at all happened. Then his brow furrowed when he realized the woman in the doorway wasn’t at all a doctor. “Uh, can I help you? Who the hell are you?”

Sure, Queenie had missed date night for this. But despite the antagonistic relationship that she shared with Regan, she did consider her a friend. Plus, she knew how proud Regan was. It wouldn’t have been easy for her to ask Queenie to look after this man. Or to admit that she trusted her to keep him safe. Queenie wasn’t sure that she could have admitted it herself. Luckily, her husband had understood the situation. Queenie hadn’t had time to stop home before grabbing her stuff, so unfortunately she had come into the hospital in her jeans, converse and a hot sauce taco bell shirt that had “I may be hot, but he’s fire” written on it. She got more than a few odd looks as she rushed through the hospital to grab a lab coat and check on Kaden. Once she took a look at him and determined that he wasn’t going to bleed out, she had left him unconscious in the room for a few hours while she went to grab food from the cafeteria and call her husband. She lost the lab coat somewhere in this process, and walked back in with perfect timing. Just as Regan had warned, the man didn’t like hospitals. He perked up when she walked in, but it wasn’t hard to tell that he had been fiddling with the tubes sticking out of his arms. “You can help me by not messing with your Iv’s” She glared at him, closing the door behind her and making her way over to the counter. “I’m your doctor. Well, unofficially I’m your doctor. Trust me, you’re better off with me. My name’s Dr. Lin-King. Considering my attire, you can call me Queenie” She pulled some gloves free and pulled them on. “How are you feeling?”

Was this lady in a fucking orange t-shirt and jeans seriously trying to tell him that she was his doctor? “Unofficially? What the fuck does that mean?” Kaden asked. He was tempted to hit the nurse call button bullshit to see what was going on but the last thing he wanted was to have two medical professionals in his room. Or three, who knew. When she turned around and headed to the counter, that’s when he finally saw it. “I’m sorry, does that shirt say what I think it does? Are you actually a doctor, what the hell is going on here?” Oh great, and now she was putting on gloves. His eyes grew wide as his mind raced through what the fuck she planne on doing. Putain, he just wanted to get up and leave right then. Bolt. He could take her. Hell, he probably killed a guy earlier that night. This would be nothing. Even with the stab wounds and blood loss “I feel like I got stabbed, doc. But I’m fine. All sewed up, ready to be anywhere but here.”

Queenie sighed, Regan had given her a forewarning but hadn’t mentioned just how bad Kaden’s attitude would be. He was a real charmer, just like Regan. She understood why the two were so important to each other. “It means that Regan asked me to keep an eye on you.” She answered nonchalantly. Speaking of their mutual friend, she could only imagine how horrified Regan would be to know that Queenie was working without the proper dress attire. “Depends on if you can read or not, but I hope we’re reading the same thing.” She came over to Kaden’s bed and checked the screen for any changes in vitals. She ignored the clipboard, she had spent enough time staring at the thing and memorizing everything earlier in the night while Kaden was still passed out. “Sit still, you’re knocking your IV’s loose.” She warned him, grabbing at his arm to make sure that nothing had fallen out during his failed escape attempt. “Of course I’m a real doctor. Regan interrupted my date night.  She’ll be back, by the way. She just needed to take care of a few things. She was very adamant that you are taken care of. And that you listen to whatever I say.” He definitely wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? “Stating the obvious doesn’t help me. Try a scale. Pain, 1-10.”

So this was Regan’s doing. Suddenly it made a lot more sense. Kaden wasn’t any less annoyed, however. His mouth spread in a thin line across his face as he held out his arm for her while she poked and prodded. Every part of him wanted to yank his arm away from her. But he also wanted her to leave already and Regan was right that cooperating was the easiest way to do that. He really hated that. “Yeah well I’d feel bad but a mime with a knife interrupted mine. Wait, that’s what you wore to date night?” He grumbled as she made sure all the needles and whatnots were back in place and not going anywhere. “Did she say when she’d be back?” Fucking soon, he hoped. He sighed. Seemed he was stuck with this Queenie for the moment. Great. “A one. Can I leave now?” Her face said no pretty clear as day. “Fine. Six. Maybe 7. But I have a high pain tolerance. Animal control. I’ve survived worse than this. Do I really need to be here for days?”

“A mime with a knife? I knew they couldn’t be trusted. What a wasted career path.” Perhaps Queenie would be driven to madness and have stabbed somebody too, if she had become a mime. Though obviously Queenie never would have never chosen to become a mime. “Never mind my attire. I’m not the one in the hospital bed.” So it had been a date? Queenie had some theories, considering Regan’s state of mind when they met up at the hospital. “No, but I assume it will be soon. She didn’t want to leave you alone for too long.” She didn’t bother gracing Kaden with a response. Clearly he was lying. She didn’t care how badass he thought he was. Bumping into a wall was a one, stab wounds were at minimum a five. “You can leave as soon as you’re healed up. However long that takes.” She did feel bad for the man. Being stabbed could not have been fun. And being stabbed by a mime just added insult to the injury. “We stitched you back up when they brought you in last night. You had some internal bleeding, but with some rest and these IV’s you’ll be good as new. Maybe a couple new scars. I need to check the wounds, sit still for me.” She made ready to peel it back the bandages to get a better look, but she wasn’t going to waste her time alone with Kaden without some questions. “How long have you and Regan been seeing each other?”

Kaden was oddly relieved to hear her distaste of mimes. At least they could agree on one thing. He was less thrilled about her attitude at the moment. It seemed like Regan had the better bedside manner, who knew. Still, didn’t like her answer to how long he was stuck there. However long that takes. Well, shit. That was going to be less than they anticipated. Kaden wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Well hopefully it doesn’t take long,” he grumbled. Kaden already wanted to squirm away from her as she went to look at his wounds; her questions only made it worse. He could run, right? Just roll right off of the bed and bolt out of this place. That’d be fine. It could work. No one would stop him. “Depends.” He sighed and lay still as he could fucking manage while she checked his wounds. He might as well cooperate. Not like he was going anywhere anytime soon. And he had a feeling she was the type to demand answers eventually. Might as well get it over with. “A few months. Why are you asking? How do you know her anyway?”

“Technically by law I’m not allowed to hold you here. We could be charged with false imprisonment.” Queenie felt obligated to tell the man, whose mumbling and grumbling certainly made Queenie wish that he would refuse their services and stumble out of the hospital so she could get home and go to sleep. But she really didn’t need him bleeding out and Regan holding that against her. “But we’d both have to put up with Regan then. So pick your battles.” Not to mention Queenie wasn't especially good at following the rules anyways. “I can see why the two of you get along. You’re both stubborn as hell.” She rolled her eyes, peeling back the first bandage to get a better look. No sign of infection, which was a plus. But more than that, the wound looked surprisingly good for being less than a day old. It was still there, but the length of it had shortened, as if some of it had already begun healing. A puzzled look on her face, Queenie pushed at the some of the areas around the wound, “Do you feel any pain when I do this?” When she was done with the first, she swapped the bandage out for a clean one and moved onto the next stab wound. Same thing there as well. “Either I must be better at this than even I thought, or you have an extraordinary amount of red blood cells. This wound is healing surprisingly fast.” She explained absentmindedly, rebandaging the second wound and pulling her gloves off of her hands and discarding them in the trash. “We went to med school together. Haven’t had a lot of contact until I moved to Maine a few weeks ago, so I’m very curious about her life now. You’re an animal control officer? Does that mean you partner with the police department?” If so, very curious that Regan would find herself in a relationship with what could be construed as a coworker.

“Point made.” Kaden was sure even if he left, Regan would drag him back kicking and screaming. He didn’t know how, but he trusted she’d find a way. His heartbeat picked up as she looked at the first wound. This might have been the first time he wished that he didn’t heal quite so fast. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Merde. The look on her face said otherwise. She definitely noticed alright. Kaden winced at her touch, but it honestly wasn’t that bad. He tried to exaggerate it a bit. “Oh, yeah, it hurts, alright. I just got stabbed in the chest.” He fixed his gaze to the speckled shitty ceiling tiles as she moved on to the next one. He knew it wasn’t going to be any better. Fuck. This is exactly why he hated hospitals. Shit like this. Having to explain it and hoping no one noticed. “Red blood cells, yeah. Must be that. Guess that means I’ll be out of here sooner than you think. Can’t wait.” Thank god she was covering them back up, he didn’t need her prolonging this any longer. If only that meant she’d leave and stop asking him fucking questions. “Med school, huh? You know you could just ask her instead of grilling your patient.” He had to wonder how the two of them got along back in the day. Something about the way Queenie worked seemed diametrically opposed to how seriously Regan took every little rule.  “I am, yeah. Technically have a badge and everything. So yeah, I partner with them but I’m not exactly knee deep in murder investigations or shit like that. Mostly it’s just a lot of actual shit.”

A promise was a promise. From the looks of it, Kaden was going to be just fine, but Queenie wasn’t going to leave his side until Regan was back. Hopefully that was sooner rather than later. Kaden clearly didn’t want Queenie there any more than she wanted to be there herself. But she wasn’t exactly mad at the opportunity to question someone so personal to Regan. Regan had always been so stoic, she wondered if that translated into her romantic life as well. Kaden seemed very shocked that his wounds had started healing so quickly, but perhaps the relief at the idea of getting out of the hospital was enough that Kaden didn’t actually care. Still, it was peculiar. But Queenie was just here to make sure that Kaden survived and left the hospital, the rest didn’t matter as much to her. “Well, I’m sure you know how Regan can be. It’s much easier to pry this information from a friend that has nowhere else to go right now.” Queenie grabbed the chair from the other side of the room and dragged it over closer to Kaden’s bed. She still kept her distance, they weren’t friends or anything, but she figured since the two were stuck they may as well talk. “Fascinating. A couple of people asked Regan out back in school. She never wanted to mix business with pleasure.” She reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a stack of magazines, flipping through them until she found one that interested her and she fell back into the chair, haphazardly glancing at the pictures as she flipped through. It was peculiar. He must have been someone special for her to break her own rule. “So what’d you do to piss that mime off?”

“Right. Pretty sure I’m a little more than a friend but sure. I do. Still trying to figure out why you care.” Kaden sort of wondered if he should really be telling this woman all this about Regan. Then again, she had asked her to watch him. She must trust her well enough, right. “What kind of friends were in school anyway? Didn’t even keep contact?” Part of him wanted to ask more about what she’d been like in school, find out how much had changed since then. He figured he’d have to play along a bit longer til he got to ask the fucking questions. If he could last that long talking to the doctor. “Good to know that’s a long standing thing with her.” Was she fucking settling in? Shit. Regan really had put her on babysitting duty. And she had magazines? For fuck’s sake. He was finding it harder and harder to believe the two of them had ever been close. Still, had to admit he was a little jealous she had something to occupy herself with. He’d take anything at this point. A coin to flip, paper clip to bend, rubber band to fucking snap, anything he could do with his hands beyond fiddle with the edge of a sheet. Or contemplate trying one more time for the IV. Sitting still with nothing to do was going to fucking kill him soonere than any stab wounds. He turned and shot her a look while she continued to flip through her magazine. “I’m sorry am I fucking boring you?” He sighed and went back to counting dots on the ceiling tiles. “And yeah, trust me, she told me all about how she doesn’t make friends at work. Let alone date colleagues. She’s also said she doesn’t consider our jobs to have enough overlap for her to worry too much. Considering I don’t normally deal with human death and cant’ even make arrests, she’s probably right,” he said with a small shrug. He wasn’t sure how much of that he really believed but at the same time, it was hard for him to think he was some sort of exception. There was no way Regan would break her self imposed rules for the likes of him, right? He turned back to Queenie at her question, eyes narrowed and face scrunched in incredulous confusion. “Putain, really?” He groaned. “I did not piss off a mime, he barged in the restaurant and attacked me out of nowhere. The hell kind of doctor are you anyway? Asking shit like that.”

More than a friend? This was even better than Queenie had imagined. To think, Regan had neglected to mention this when the two were reconnecting. She would just have to ask her about this Kaden fellow. Maybe invite them over for a double date night. After Kaden was released, obviously. Though she wasn’t sure how well her husband would fare against Regan and Kaden. Regan didn’t have much of a funny bone in her body, and Kaden didn’t seem particularly chipper. And that was coming from Queenie, who had often been described as a mixture of both of those same qualities. “Yes, well the two of us were more focused on the educational aspects of Med School. We wanted to be the best. In a way, that kept us from making a lot of friends. And also made us… unique friends ourselves.” Any of their classmates may have assumed that the two hated each other or at the very least competed with each other for top spot. That was true, but throughout that they also developed a sort of kinship. Queenie was flipping through her magazine when Kaden asked if he was boring her. “Well you certainly aren’t the friendliest conversation. But I’m multitasking.” She shrugged, reaching over to hold up the stack of magazines, “You want one too?” He probably was going a little stir crazy in the bed, though considering the look of the wounds he would probably be here for another day or two max. All things considered, for two stab wounds to the chest that was a short trip. “Right, of course.” Queenie didn’t believe it and she didn’t think Kaden did either. But Regan was fantastic at rationalizing things to herself. Of course she would find a workaround in her own logic to date Kaden. “Hey, I’m here off duty. Usually I couldn’t care what brought someone into the hospital unless it pertains to the operation. We’re stuck here until Regan gets back, figured I’d ask some questions. We can sit here in complete silence if you’d rather have it that way.”

“Guess that doesn’t surprise me. With how seriously she takes work and all,” Kaden responded. He was still curious what kind of friends that made the two women if they were always competing against each other for the top spot. “I’d ask who ended up being the best in your class, you or her, but I have a feeling you’re not going to give me the unbiased take.” Not that it mattered much to him either way, he just wanted to see what kind of response he’d get; what else he could dig out of her. He still didn’t like how quickly she'd settled in over there; “Yeah well Regan asked you to be here, not me." He raised a brow as she handed him a stack of random magazines. He didn’t really want to read a single one but he was desperate. "Fine," he said as he reached out and took one off the stack and started rolling it into a tube in his hands. Less reading material, more fidget device at the moment. It felt better already just having something to do with his hands. Didn't do a whole lot to lessen how much he wanted to get up and run out of there, but it was something at least. “Again, I didn’t ask for a babysitter.” He sighed and the room was quiet for a moment, nothing but the hum of the fluorescent lights and the occasional drip from the bag of fluids. She may have had a point. “Fine. Anything else you want to you know?”

Queenie nodded in agreement. Of the two, Regan would most likely win that battle. Both took their jobs seriously, but Queenie had always been more open to more rule bending than Regan was. In that sense, Regan was about as serious as they came. “That doesn’t matter.” Queenie shot a look over at Kaden. At the end of the day, how the two fared in med school didn’t matter at all. Because neither of them had ended up at the top. Dr. Chonksky had swooped in under their noses and stolen that from the two of them. And look how she had ended up. What a wasted career. “Another doctor ended up at the top of the class. Shame what happened to her.” She shook her head and flipped another page in her magazine. Kaden messing with the pages of the magazine was slightly irritating, but Queenie relented. Queenie didn’t reply to Kaden, just sat in silence for a while until he finally spoke again, a knowing smirk crossing her face. Just as she had figured. “I’ve covered my bases. I won’t hound you too much for information. I’ll leave some of my interrogating for Regan herself. You got anything for me? It’s only fair.”

Kaden’s brows furrowed. “Uh, what happened to her?” Not that he sincerely cared but the way she said it, it was hard not to be even a little bit curious. He drummed his fingers on the magazine before flipping through to see if there was anything remotely worth looking at. Couldn't say he was impressed. He turned to her at her question. “I mean, you covered a lot.” He paused to think if there was anything more he wanted to know. Then he caught a flash of orange. “That’s right. I need to know. You really went out in public in that shirt?”

Queenie shook her head at Kaden’s question, deeply sighing before answering him. “She became a plastic surgeon.” There was a hint of disgust and disappointment in her voice. Perhaps her tone had made him believe she had died or something. But some things were worse than dead. Queenie was still bitter that she had wasted all of her talent to become a plastic surgeon. What a tragedy. “I’m thorough” Queenie grinned, proud of herself. She had to admit that Regan fascinated her. Though it seemed that much had stayed the same with her, so much had changed as well. Of course, that was to be expected with anyone over time. But Regan had always seemed so opposed to change that Queenie honestly thought the woman might never age through sheer stubbornness. “Of course I did” Queenie glanced down at her shirt, wondering what could be wrong with it. “Oh, you must be confused because there’s no fire, like the joke implies. My husband was wearing the fire shirt. Make more sense?”

Kaden’s face scrunched up and his eyes narrowed. Plastic surgery? Was… was that supposed to mean something? “Oh. Yeah. Of course. Plastic surgery. What a failure.” At least it was nice to learn that all doctors were weird and intense and not just Regan. He wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not. Or that he really needed two people like that in his life. Granted, at the moment, it seemed like he didn’t have a choice, Just when he thought he couldn't be more confused, she explained the shirt. Well, she tried to explain it at least. His head tilted as he looked over her outfit again. “Yeah I got that much. More confused why you both wore matching shirts in the first place. Is that a thing? That you do?” Oh god, did couples do that? That sounded awful. Maybe a death curse was preferable to that. Mimes, maybe not.

Queenie nodded as if this was completely common knowledge, “I’m glad you agree with me. No wonder Regan likes you.” There were a lot of reasons that Queenie could see the two together. Ironically, there were also a lot of reasons why she was still seemingly unable to shove the two of their puzzle pieces together. She was still having a hard time processing the professional and personal mixing of the two. Definitely something worth discussing with Regan at a later date. Once her boyfriend was out of the hospital. “How are others supposed to know that we’re w- a couple if we aren’t wearing matching shirts?” She had almost said winning but changed her mind at the last moment. She needed to calm herself down, she didn’t actually know this man. “Every date night we usually wear something coordinated. It’s like our thing.” She added as if this was the most common thing in the world. “Okay, fine. Admittedly I thought it was a bit weird at first too. But after a while it really starts to grow on you. Just wait until the four of us go on a double date and we all wear Taco Bell shirts. You and Regan can be mild.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #245

“i fell asleep at the wheel again, crashed my car just to feel again.”

What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Obsess over the appropriate amount of eye contact I make. What color is your mp3? Hot pink. Have you ever laid in a hammock? Yeup. Is there a song or lyrics currently super-glued in your head? "Popular Monster" by Falling In Reverse FUCK What can you go a day without doing? Uhhh a lot? I dunno... oh, drink water because I suck at that gah. I've gotten a lot better than I used to be tho. What can’t you go a day without doing? Touching some form of technology. Who do you spend most of your time with? Myself. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. What type of quality is a must-have in a friend? Treat others with kindness. Are you any good at reading someone's body language? I definitely think so. What type of art would you hang up in your room? Lol I have some of my own... but let's say it was a clean slate again. I'd put some macabre/gothic art of some sort up, probably. Of COURSE with meerkats making an appearance. What fruit is too sweet to you? Hm, I'm blanking. What was the last contest you have ever won: Uhhhh... I think the giveaway of two Silent Hill: Revelation things? That was forever ago. What was the worst hair cut you have ever had in your entire life: Looking back, the haircut I had before this one (short on the left, faded into still rather long on the right) I don't really like anymore. Looks fine in some pictures, but not most. What was the worst thing you have ever worn in your life: Oh I don't know. Probably some dance costume. Do you like any sort of animes: Yeah, a handful. I'd honestly like to watch more. Have you ever used someone for your own benefits: I don't think so. What is the worst cartoon you have ever seen: Oh boy, idk. There's some dumb ones, a lot that I've only seen peeks of. Do you like to type or write more: TYPE. Writing physically can easily make my carpal tunnel act up. I hated having to hand-write a few essays last semester... I had to stop frequently to roll my wrists and cringe and stuff. What color would you have your skin if you could change it: I'd like pale skin like I have, but I wish it was more flawless/porcelain-ish. SOOOOOO pretty ahahhhhhhhhahhhhhh Do you usually cook your own meals, or does someone cook for you: I usually have to throw something together in the microwave because Mom's barely home, but when she is home, she cooks. If someone cooks for you, do you always thank them for it: YES. YES. NOT SAYING ANYTHING IS SO FUCKING DISRESPECTFUL. What do you do during the day: Almost without question, SOMEthing on technology/usually computer. As for what I do on technology, boy, a lot a lot. I don't even feel like listing it all. When you are online what do you normally find yourself doing: ... Oh, lmao. Uhhh binging YouTube, writing on or just checking up on KM, dA browsing/cleaning my drowning inbox, Facebook, "working" at the SH and SotC wikis, playing games, roaming Tumblr, check my emails, uhhhhhhh,,,, What is the most hated item you own: I wouldn't... keep it if I hated it? Uhhhh yeah, I honestly don't know. What is your favorite item you own out of all the items you have: My iPod, really. I have over 1k songs on this old-ass nano that I've had since middle school. I guess my laptop is kinda tied, but idk. Like, I don't love this laptop itself, just that it allows me to go online at a decent speed lmao. I guess they're my favorites in different ways. So, do you think that you will get where you want in life currently: Not stopping pushing for it 'til I get it. Why is that so. May I ask: I'm "too" determined. It's been a struggle getting to even where I am, but FUCK, I'm getting there. Do you like Halloween: I can't fwu if you don't. Has a teacher ever flirted with you? Not to my recollection. Is it okay for friends to kiss each other, as friends? Personally, I think a simple peck is fine IF that's your thing and it's mutually understood that it's platonic. Ex., I know greeting kisses are normal in some cultures, and I see no reason to shame it so long you're not like making out. Is it okay for girls to hit boys? Fuck no. Unless you're like fighting off an assailant/defending yourself, NO gender hits ANYONE. Do you know a lot of attractive boys personally? I've never thought about it? I'm not gonna dig through all the people I know rn... What happens if you realized you had a crush on somebody? More than anything, I'd be scared of being hurt again, particularly if it's a guy. So I definitely wouldn't make the first move. Do you think you are attractive? No. Which two of your friends would have the cutest baby together? I don't know. How do you feel about your naked body? DON'T COME AT ME WITH THIS QUESTION GO AWAY Have you ever been called obnoxious? No. At least, not to my memory. Do you wish you had a bigger family? No, but a more close-knit one. Which friend would you kiss full on the mouth, no questions asked? Sara. If somebody smacks your butt, you automatically say: I wouldn't say shit, I'd turn around and smack them across the face. How often does your family life conflict with your social life? Pretty much never. Have you ever been emotionally abused? No, thankfully. Do small children like you? They seem to, I guess. If karma is really true, should you be worried? Not very. What makeup do you wear on a daily basis? None. Do you have anything hidden in your room? Yeah, some saved money. What do you wish you were doing right now instead of this? It'd be great to talk to Sara. If you had a baby, would you want to have it at home or in a hospital? Oh I'm going to the fucking hospital for that epidural fren. If I even wanted kids. What was the last thing you ordered online? Uhhh good question. Have you ever had a bad experience with anti-depressants? If so, what? Well, actually the entire time I was ON anti-depressants. Because I'm bipolar, anti-depressants actually ramp up the aggression of bipolarity symptoms. How, I don't recall the science of, but I trust every word that comes out of my psychiatrist's mouth for many reasons. That definitely happened. One also made me gain weight, and the worst instance was in middle school when I was briefly on one that made me SO fucking hyper and happy in the morning but I crashed into an absolute bitchy monster by mid-afternoon. Now a combination of mood stabilizers helps both my bipolarity and depression immensely and are the main reason I'm alive. Are you allergic to any plants? I mean, I'm allergic to pollen. Are you an outdoors person? If the weather is cool, I love it. Does your past bother you? Some parts of it. Do you take risks or play it safe? I tend to play it safe. What forms of art do you like the best? This is an absolutely impossible question. "Art" has such an incredible range of forms, and I enjoy like... all. I guess the one thing I don't particularly care for is abstract art. What forms of art do you want to try? HYPERREALISM IN DRAWING. I REALLY wanna be able to draw/paint/whatever and make it look so true to life, BUT I'd like to add fantasy aspects to what I'm making (for example, my characters). I'd love to do portraits, too. This isn't really a "type" of art, but one thing I desperately want in art is to actually develop my own recognizable style that isn't just a wobbly attempt at realism with shitty proportions. What’s your favorite planet? Saturn's dope. Has a medication ever made you itch? No. What’s your favorite rainy day activity? Cuddle with snacks and like binge a good TV show/YT videos, etc. BUT considering I'm single I'ma just take a nap if I'm actually tired and you can hear the rain on the window. Do you put creamer in your tea? I wonder how many times I'll tell surveys I hate tea lmao by the end of my life lmao. What do you think are some good names for twins? I don't care enough to think about this. What are three things that fascinate you? Animal behavior (particularly social), the paranormal, and genetics. Would you say you live more in the past, present, or future? Present, I think. Have you ever been a victim of a crime? Not me personally, no, but my family. We had our basketball hoop stolen from our front yard and I was mega tilted yo. Does injustice make you angry? More like it infuriates me. Do you have the bad habit of procrastinating? Very badly. Are you afraid of running into a certain person in public? I both am and am not afraid of running into Jason. I have a very strong feeling I'd start having a PTSD episode (by that I mean hyperventilating, crying a bit, and shaking at the very least), but simultaneously I just want him to know I'm sorry. Do you have anyone you avoid? No. Do you have the same dreams now that you did as a kid? No. Who’s your crush? I don't really know if I have one right now. My old friend Ian and I started talking, and he's a fucking hilarious dude with similar ethics to mine with great compassion, but I still don't know him well enough to say I like-like him. I'm honestly just happy to have an irl friend again that actually talks to me regularly. Do you trust the government? I believe in WAY too many conspiracy theories to even try to convince anyone I trust the government lmao. Who do you want to meet in Heaven? I don't know exactly what sort of afterlife I believe in (it's not the traditional Heaven though), but I do believe that souls can reunite. The first thing I want to see again is Teddy. Does your school take sports too seriously? Considering we're well-respected in the sports field to the degree we draw in a huge number of foreign athletes, guess you could say yes lmao. Most of the people I even slightly know here came for sports. If there are bruises on your body, how did you get them? There aren’t. Would you ever go back in time to do something over again, but differently? Yes. Where did you kiss the last person you kissed? The airport. Have you thought about your wedding in detail? Not great detail, no. Do you think you could ever really kill someone? In self-defense, I know I could. Do you like Papa John’s pizza? I couldn't even guess the last time I had it. I don't remember. Do you attend school? Yeah. Do you call it a crush, or do you just say you like someone? The latter. Where were you when the ball dropped? In my bed asleep lmao. Where are your siblings? Probably all at work. Waffles, pancakes, or french toast? French toast. Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? Not really, but I WILL wonder to myself if you believe in some of the bullshit just about every religion has somewhere. Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? YUP YUP YUP! Mainly irl tho. Have you ever painted your nails on only one hand, forgetting about the other one or getting side-tracked? No. Have you ever gone to one of those parties where everyone is falling around drunk everywhere? No. Been to one where everyone was high, though. Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between? I'd hope the good guy. Do you ever erase the numbers off of surveys just because they annoy you? Ha ha yeah. Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? Yes. Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? Yes, all but one. What do you hear right now? "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Proud as fuck because this song was a MASSIVE PTSD trigger at first and even made me cry, but despite it still making me kinda uncomfortable, I can listen to and enjoy it now. If an ex said they hated you, what would you say? The only three people whose opinions would matter there would be Sara, Girt, and Jason. Sara and Jason would fucking break me, while I think Girt would of course make me cry, but I just. Wouldn't be surprised to lose another irl friend. I'd be so fucking hurt by any. OH YEAH, what would I say? I think Sara would have me speechless. I'd probably just choke out, "I don't blame you," to Jason. Girt, my first instinct pondering this was "are you serious?" because he's such a joker while my stomach dropped. What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? I'd be happy for her, but still feel kinda sad that it wasn't me. What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? If I like the person, I feel very comforted. It like... makes me feel small, safe, and permitted to just let my emotions loose, ex. be "allowed" to cry. What do you usually do right when you wake up? Check my phone to see the time. Truthfully, is there someone you used to date that you miss? I don't want to answer this. Do the math. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you brush your teeth right away when you wake up? No. Have you ever made someone laugh when they were crying? Yeah. Would you date someone three years older than you? Yeah. Do you prefer to shower at night or in the morning? Actually as of recently, the morning. It's a nice way to start the day clean and energized. Could you handle living with the last person you texted? I'd love to live with her. Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? It was assigned, but I loved it. Have you accomplished any goals you set for yourself this year so far? Not really? Well no, I think I'm being a less procrastinating student and also not fleeing so quickly from situations that invoke my anxiety. Are there still movie rental stores where you live or have they all gone out of business? SOBS Blockbuster come BACK we NEED u. What was the last thing to annoy you or make you upset? Eh, it was stupid and something that realistically isn't worth being annoyed by. I was SUPER bored and tired yesterday waiting for Mom to finish her field work while I waited in the library after classes, and I was so ready to go home, but she stayed longer than she thought she would. Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush/es assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? Actually, not really. He's way too motivated and drawn to people who push forward and get shit done, and just in general at least from how I "know" him as a fan I could only realistically see us as friends. But a fangirl can dream ok just let me dream. When looking for something to watch on TV do you tend to pick shows you know you like, or try new shows that look interesting even though you’ve never heard of them before? I'll answer hypothetically if I watched TV: probably something I know I like. Might get adventurous every now and again and try something new, though, especially if it's on a channel I like. How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? I haven't had to. I juuuuust slightly have enough room where I DID have them grow in. Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? Uhhh probably the deli, which I got and lasted for two hours my first work day lmao. Have you ever been fired from a job? No. What do people tell you your voice sounds like? I dunno, kinda deep for a girl and lacking an accent most of the time. What financial class are you? Lower. What poster is hanging closest to you? A huge Nightmare Before Christmas one. Are you more comfortable with men or women? Women. Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? Maybe if Ian did? Idk. It'd be a nice way to get to know more about each other, but I'd only agree to it after we talked a bit longer. Does your family keep tons of leftovers in the fridge? Not "a ton." Things we'll eat again though, yes. Favorite FRIENDS character? That is, if you like it. I haven't watched it. Are you thinking of getting another piercing? Where? Hell yes. Pretty sure next is collarbones if I could just lose a little bit more weight so they're more visible. Do you love when people remember little things about you? YES OMG!!!!!!!!!! Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? Yes, I just think it's common good manner. Even though the reasoning behind it is whatever, it's a societal thing that I just go along with. How many phones have you gone through? Idk, not too many. Have you always lived in the house you currently reside in? No.

[willofhounds]

Reach for the light ch1 and link to other chapter

Oliver's POV

He stood staring out over the city he once called home. It had been five years since he left the college at 16 almost 17 and joined the CIA. They recruited him right there in college. Not because of his name. But for the talent he his behind his playboy placad.

A placad he was having trouble putting back up. Years in Tam Quan had taken its toll. A leader of the most insane bunch of killers the world would never know about.

The group dismantled and those not murderous sent back into the world. At least those who didn't stay with the agency. Oliver for his part couldn't find it in himself to stay. As much as he loved Alex and Echo he couldn't.

Both men had been alphas who looked after him once he joined the agency. As one of the few omegas male or female in the agency he had to watched.

No one thought an omega could make it in Medusa. The terrible black ops group that killed and went on insane missions. Yet he had. Not only had he survived the group. He thrived in it. Becoming Delta of century team 12.

A team that had been known for doing the impossible. Their leader taking out any who stood in his way. The only one he would listen to would be Echo. His second and trusted advisor.

Now he was back in Starling City. During his time away he had heard about Sarah's disappearance two years after his own. Only recently had she been found. Out on an old Chinese island called Lian Yu. Her disappearance set right before his entry into Medusa. Now she too had returned. From what he understood she was different. Made him wonder if she was like him.

A sound behind him made him whirl around. Looking for anything or anyone that could be a threat. Instead he saw the brown haired doctor. His hazel eyes searching Oliver's grey ones.

The man asked softly his hands extended palms up," Do you remember me, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver did remember him. Those in Medusa who had been allowed to return to their old lives were assigned a doctor. More specifically a psychiatrist. Someone who would make sure of their mental health and take care of any problems.

His doctor was Morris Panov. An omega male like himself. From what Alex had told him this man could be trusted. That Alex went to him himself for someone to talk to.

Something he had learned from the doctor was that omega psychiatrists were allowed to learn a technique. One that would give them an edge over an alpha patient. Or just one prone to violence. By most countries laws though the doctor could only use it on a patient. Or in extreme cases non patients when there was no other option. It was called gentle mind.

A technique that calmed the patients mind into a trance like state. They were still very aware of what was happening around them. Though reactions would be delayed and non violent. Thankfully he had not had such a technique used on him. Just warned that it was a possibility.

Finally he answered the man that he didn't trust," I remember you doctor. What's the verdict?"

A voice said from behind the doctor causing Oliver to startle violently," Ten percent of your body mainly chest area is covered in scar tissue. At least four broken bones that haven't healed correctly. If I didn't know any better Mr. Queen I would say you fought in a war."

He watched the new man with greying brown hair walk in. He wore a white lab coat. His movements were slow as if approaching a skittish animal.

Oliver didn't answer him. Just watched the man warily. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore. Even though he knew this man from his childhood he didn't trust him.

With a sigh the man said going back towards the door," There is someone who would like to see you. I'm sure the feeling is mutual."

When the man opened the door he saw his mother. Her dirty blond hair and green eyes met his own grey eyes. She stepped towards him and instinctively he took a step back from her. Though one set of instincts wanted him to run at her. The other set born from his time in Medusa told him to push her away. That she wouldn't accept what he had become.

Panov got between them and said in a calming voice," Easy now, Mr. Queen. Take a deep breath," Oliver did so. Feeling his heart that he didn't know had been racing slow," Mrs. Queen I am Doctor Morris Panov. Currently I am assigned to your son for reasons I cannot disclose. If you try to approach him it must be done carefully. Or let him come to you."

A dark look crossed Oliver's face as he glared at the doctor. Said doctor only stared calmly back at him. In the doctor's hazel eyes there was acceptance. Whatever he went with Doctor Panov would support him. As long as it didn't hurt anyone.

He then turned back to his mother. Her eyes held hope. Hope that he would come to her. For a moment he wanted to run from the room. Go anywhere else but here. Then it passed.

Oliver took a small tentative step towards her. Then he paused and took another. This continued until he stood before her.

Slowly and unsurely he wrapped his arms around her. The omega instincts took over at that point. Allowing him to relax into her hold as she wrapped her arms around him.

It wasn't long before he pulled away. Unable to allow himself to show such weakness for very long. Panov gave him an approving nod. One of the few the man had given him since they met three days prior.

The rest of the time in the hospital was spent filling out paperwork. When his mother had read through his file she went a deathly pale color. Something that he decided he would investigate later.

An hour later he was released an on his way home. For the first time in seven years he would step foot in the queen mansion. On the outside it had seemed like the mansion hadn't changed at all. It was still larger than they needed. His instincts telling him too many way to get in. Not enough people to protect it. Even century team 12 would have difficulty defending this place in an event of an attack.

When the car stopped Moira was the first to get out. Oliver followed her with Panov on his heels. Their sessions would be held here or at the man's clinic in downtown.

When the driver went to get his bag out of the trunk Oliver stopped him. The bag was full of his Medusa gear. The last thing he needed was them spilling out over the lawn. That would bring many uncomfortable questions that he wasn't ready to answer.

His mother said as they entered the house," Your room is just how you left it. I didn't have the heart to change it once you disappeared."

A dark skinned man appeared from the living room. His scent was that of an alpha. He had dark brown eyes and smile lines over his face. It was that of someone who smiled a lot.

He said holding out his hand," Its damn good to see you Oliver. Who is this?"

Walter that was his name. He worked with Oliver's father before the boat accident. If Oliver remembered correctly the man was the current CFO of the company. He was looking at something over Oliver's shoulder.

Panov said taking the man's hand as he came up next to Oliver," Morris Panov. I'm the psychiatrist assigned to Mr. Queen."

Walter frowned as he asked," Why does Oliver need a doctor?"

The younger blond tensed. Not looking at any of them as Panov replied," He has been through many hardships over the last seven years. I'm just here to make sure he adjusts. Its up to him if he tells you what

happened."

He felt gratitude towards the doctor. Honestly he half expected the msn to tell them everything. Instead he left it to Oliver about what he wanted them to know.

A voice that he hadn't heard for years said from above him," Mom..."

He looked up a smile on crossed his face. It was a true smile. Not the fake ones he had given everyone else. Thea stood looking down at him in shock. He looked down at himself.

He was wearing a black button down shirt with a white undershirt and black cargo pants. On top of his black shirt was his dog tags. The only name on that was Delta. His tags had his callsign and team number.

Thea said her eyes filling with tears," Ollie... you're alive."

Oliver said his smile widening," Thea."

She came running down the stairs. She jumped into arms wrapping her arms around him. For a long moment they just stood there. Then she pulled away from him her brown eyes met his grey ones.

"Your eyes are grey. What happened to them?"

He said softly," Its okay. There's nothing wrong with my eyes, Speedy."

Thea frowned as she said," Worst nickname ever, Ollie."

He snickered quietly. The name was given to her when she followed him and Tommy around. When they pulled apart her eyes found Panov.

Surprise filled her eyes as she said," You are the doctor that opened the clinic downtown."

Panov smiled kindly and said," Yes. I believe we met at the coffee shop down the street from your company."

She nodded. Then eyes widened in realization.

"You're Ollie's doctor."

It was a statement not a question. He wasn't surprised. Thea had always been quick.

Panov nodded as he replied," I am."

His doctor didn't say anything else as they began to taper off into the living room. Oliver excused himself. Making the excuse that he was tired and wanted a nap. His mother explained that dinner would be at six. She also said that Tommy would be there. His best friend before his recruitment. Excitement and fear filled him. He didn't know if he wanted to see the slightly older man.

Panov gave him a knowing look but didn't say anything. The man knew it was too much too soon for the blond. For the moment he would allow Oliver to leave. Though they would have to talk soon. Probably before he left.

When he started up the stairs he was stopped by Raisa. She was a short Russian woman who had taken looked after him since he was small. Her warm onyx eyes met his and gave him a big hug. Telling him how good it was to see him.

He replied in quiet Russian," Its good to see you too Raisa. It's good to be home. But I'm tired and am in need of a nap."

Her shock at hearing her native tongue come so naturally off his tongue was quickly covered up. Before she could respond he was already walking up the stairs. Upon reaching his room he stared at it in shock.

Clothes were everywhere. Typical of a teenager. When his mother said she hadn't changed anything she meant it. Before his nap he would have to clean this up. His training dictated it. With a sigh he began to pick things up.

Morris' POV

His hazel eyes watched the twenty three year old leave the room. When Alex had told him about the killer from Medusa he had not believed it. How could some one so young be that good? In his mind it wasn't conceivable. Yet when they were introduced just three days ago he was proven wrong.

Flashback

Morris Panov was sitting behind his desk when Alexander Conklin both a patient and a friend barged in. Alex dragged a young man with dirty blond hair and grey eyes behind him. Even with his useless right leg the man was powerful. The younger it seemed had long since given up the fight.

Morris greeted with a smile," Alex I didn't expect you for our first session for another week. I'm still getting the new clinic ready."

Alex replied after pushing the younger man into a chair in front of the desk," Sorry about the unplanned visit, Mo. If I tried to plan this Delta here would have taken off on me. Again."

The last word was directed at the younger man. The blond couldn't have been older than twenty. Yet, Alex had called him Delta. Delta meant the younger was part of the Medusa program.

With that realization Morris took a closer look at the man. He was of a good height. Roughly six feet tall. His blond hair was shaggy and in need of a good cut. While he was thin it wasn't life threateningly so.

What worried Morris was the man's eyes. They were a cold grey color. Something seen in the worst of killers and those who had seen too much war. There was something else in them. Some thing that took a minute for the doctor to place. A sense of loss. Like the man had lost everything he held dear to him.

Softly so not to startle the younger man asked," What's your name young man?"

The grey eyes looked at him blankly as he replied in a monotone," Delta of century team 12."

Alex sighed and rubbed a hand across his face as he said," He's been in too long, Mo. I've been trying to drag out the more human side of him since the op was disbanded."

Medusa or the op as Alex called it. A hell hole for the insane was a better description. What had this man done to deserve such a punishment? He was little more than a teenager. At least he would be if one took away the killer's eyes.

Morris asked," What do you want me to do Alex? My first impression is he needs to stay in a clinic full time. Until we can ascertain that he's not a danger to anyone."

The grey eyes turned to him. This time there was a fierce glare in them. That's when he remembered what he had heard. Out of all twenty operative teams century team 12 was the most well known. Even in his circles most of the high ranking doctors had talked of them. That if the agency needed something done then they called in that team. More specifically they called in the leader Delta.

This man was Delta? At first his mind couldn't believe it. Then again some things could only be pulled off by a youth.

The man said this time there was life in his voice," Try and keep me here. I dare you. I will kill everyone in here to get out of here if necessary."

Morris Panov cocked his head to the side as he asked," What if I asked gave you a choice?"

Grey eyes sparked with curiosity and for the briefest moment there was just a hint of blue. Now he knew why this man seemed familiar. It was not because of his callsign or any other ridiculous CIA thing. It was because of where his clinic was placed. He was in Starling City and this man was well known. If in different circles than he by everyone.

The missing Queen scion. Who had been missing for almost seven years. What had Alex done?

End of flashback

Morris was pulled out of his thoughts by a question," Is there anything we can do to help, Oliver, doctor?"

Morris sighed as he learned forward looking at the elder Queen. She was a doting mother from what he could tell. Though like Oliver Queen she had her secrets. He wondered if she knew her daughter was into drugs. Probably not or was avoiding the truth. Both scenarios were possible.

When he spoke it was in his soft toned voice when dealing with an anxious paitent," He will need to have sessions with me. At least three times a week. For your own safety I must ask that you do not try to wake him from a nightmare. Or try to pull him out of a flashback. He tends to react violently. So long as he is not touched he will not hurt anyone."

So far only Alex had been able to touch him. Mainly it was due to his prior experience with the omega. The man knew him. Had known him for years.

Moira Queen looked at him in disbelief. Sighing he continued," There are things I can't tell you. Did you see the necklace that your son was wearing?"

He saw the confusion then recognition. She recognized that he was wearing dog tags. Only the military wore those. She covered her mouth in horror.

She asked," What happened to him? How did he get in the military?"

Shaking his head Morris said," Even I don't know that. He hasn't told me much yet. I only know what's in his file."

It wasn't much either. Alex must have known who Delta was. Or David Webb as Alex called him.

Walter Steele said trying to comfort his wife," We won't. Do you have a number we can reach you at? Just in case."

Morris pulled out a card and wrote out his personal number on the back. That way they had both his numbers in case of something happening. When they took the numbers and nodded.

He would stay for dinner but that was it. For the moment they didn't trust him. Hopefully they would be begin to trust him after awhile.

Oliver's POV

It was just before dinner he stood at in the fiorer. In the back of his mind he sensed Morris Panov's eyes on him. Watching his every move but not interfering. He was looking at one of the last pictures of him and his father. They were standing on pier ready to fish. His eyes were blue in that picture. Not the grey eyes he currently bore.

A voice said from behind him," Oliver, dear God it's you."

It was only the fact that it was a familiar voice kept him from flinching. Slowly he turned to face a black haired man. Tommy Merlyn stood in front of the door. His eyes were blue eyes watching Oliver.

Oliver's lips upturned slightly in a smile as he said," Tommy Merlyn. It has been long time."

Tommy's eyes landed on his dog tags curiosity sparking in them. No doubt he wanted to know where they come from. Then he looked guilty as he looked behind him.

He said guilt lacing his tone," They insisted on coming once they heard you were back."

Curiosity peaked he nodded to Tommy and the other stepped aside. This allowed him to see who had come. The first he had somewhat expected. They had been dating before he left. To him it wasn't serious and never could be. As she was a beta and he was an omega. Meaning he couldn't get her pregnant but he could.

It was Laurel Lance. She was wearing a red dress that was nice but not over bearing. She was wearing a necklace. One that he had guessed by the looks of guilt on both her and Tommy's face that Tommy had given it her. He felt happiness for them. Then a tinge of sadness remembering the love he had lost.

Shaking his head of those dark thoughts he greeted," Laurel it is good to see you."

She returned the greeting with a smile," It's good to see you too Oliver. Where have you been?"

The question that everyone wanted to know. Yet he didn't want to answer. It painful memory of a time and place he wished to forget. Even speaking its name would bring back the horrors of what he had done.

What had his doctor said? "Tell them when you are ready. Make no mistake you will have to tell them eventually but only when you are ready."

As much as the man confused him he accepted the others words. Panov meant him no harm it seemed. While Oliver didn't trust him he did respect him somewhat.

He said sighing," I've been a little of everywhere. Where exactly I don't feel like sharing."

Likely he never would. Instead the doctor would make him tell them. Still some time is better than no time at all.

As they moved aside a familiar man walked in. While he expected Laurel he didn't truly expect Malcolm Tommy's father to walk in. The man who had blue eyes so similar to his own before Medusa. He didnt miss their similarities but then again he had grown up with the man.

Malcolm's eyes flickered to where Panov stood. Surprise shot across them before it was hidden behind his mask.

The man greeted warmly," Olivier it is good to have you back safe and sound."

Sound was a bit of a stretch. Not that he was going to tell the older Merlyn that.

Still he replied with a similar greeting," It is good to see you too, Mr. Merlyn."

The man took a step towards him the alpha pheromones coming off of him. While Tommy was an alpha he didn't give off such a powerful presence. Malcolm was unique like that. Oliver could sense the power behind the man. Hidden just behind his mask. Malcolm Merlyn would have made a good Delta in Medusa.

He said watching Oliver carefully," Please Oliver call me Malcolm."

Oliver nodded but before anything else could be said dinner was ready. His mother sat at the left of the head of the table. Walter sat at the head his eyes watching them carefully. Thea sat next to their mother. Next to her was Tommy. Malcolm was the last to sit on that side.

On the other side of the table was Morris Panov was sat to the right Walter. Laurel sat next to the doctor her curiosity had not faded at all. Oliver sat across from Malcolm.

The food was a heavy Asian style meal. One that Oliver had loved before his time in Medusa. Now he wasn't sure if his stomach could handle it. For most of the last five years he had been on field rations. Light food meant to fill one quickly.

So he picked at the food. As he suspected the main meal itself unsettled his stomach. The vegetables that came on the side were enough though.

As he ate he could feel Panov eyes knowingly on him. Another pair of eyes were on him. Ones that were not the knowing ones of the doctor.

Discreetly he glanced up to find Malcolm's eyes on him. They were ice blue eyes that held a measure of warmth. Something he hadn't received from the man before.

Thea asked suddenly," What was it like being gone for seven years? Where you lived?"

Oliver froze. Telling them nothing wouldn't help. Even the doctor had yet to get an answer from him.

With a glazed look in his eyes he replied," The first two years were heaven. I met someone. Someone I thought I would spend the rest of my life with."

His thoughts went to the hazel eyed woman named Irene. They had met when he first moved to Taiwan. A local that offered to show him the area. At first it was just her teaching him the area and the culture. Then one day he asked her on a date. She agreed.

A warm calm voice asked," What happened, Mr. Queen? Why were only two years not seven the happiest time for you?"

The voice knew. It had to know that the love of his life had been killed. Killed by a rogue fighter along with the child they had just adopted. He had found them just a few minutes after it had happened. Both of their bodies floating in the river on the backside of their property.

He was shaking. He knew he was shaking but couldn't stop it. A hand on his shoulder brought back instincts to kill. This area was not safe. He had to find Echo and get the hell out of here.

He grabbed at the arm twisting it painfully into a lock. The person it belonged to let out a pained cry. To which he ignored. Already gaining his feet without releasing the arm he kicked the person.

It was blocked and a mad battle began. His left hand struck out at a tall man's throat. He was about an inch taller than Delta. To the Medusan's surprise he wasn't that bad of a fighter. Someone had trained him. Just as the Monk had trained Delta.

Delta struck hard and fast. Aiming to incapacitate rather than kill. He had to get out of here. To kill everyone who stood in his way if necessary.

A well placed strike to his jaw from the other person made his head spin. While he was trying to clear his head he went on the defensive. Whoever this person was. They were good.

A command that he was familiar with was shouted," Delta! Stop!"

Delta obeyed only because he knew the man. The doctor that was trusted by Alexander Conklin. Like Delta the other combatant stopped. Slowly the fog around his mind faded and he remembered where he was.

Queen mansion at a dinner with his family. It was only his first day back. Looking up he saw that inquisitive blue eyes watching him. The same blue eyes that belonged to Malcolm Merlyn. Well shit!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060740

Oliver Queen never went to the island. Instead he disappeared at sixteen into a program few knew about. When he returns he is a different man colder darker. When it is revealed that the man who he thought was his father isn't things are turned on their head.

[fiction-phan]

Spiders and Spells

Day 6 of the 25 Days of Christmas

Summary: Phil was never great at transfiguration but thought he was getting better. At least he did until Professor McGonagall paired him up to work with Dan Howell. Dan is nice but there's just one problem. He's Phil's crush and Phil is prone to make mistakes when working under pressure.

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Day 6! If you don't like Harry Potter or don't know much about it, I suggest you skip Day 6. If, like me, you love Harry Potter, then read ahead. I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it!

(I kind of see Dan as a Slytherin but in the end decided to stick to their results on Pottermore)

Read it on AO3 

Phil hated transfiguration class. No matter how much he tried, he never got the spell right in the first try.

He always transfigured the object given into what was required, but it took a lot of work. Phil got the impression that even Professor McGonagall considered him to be a hopeless case at this point.

The only reason she accepted him into her NEWT level class was because he somehow got an Exceeds Expectations in his OWLs. Phil was still unsure over how he did that.

His parents tried to dissuade him from taking Transfiguration at NEWT level, knowing he was prone to clumsiness and panic when under pressure. Phil would have listened to them if it wasn't because he needed the subject to become a Healer. He had no intentions of giving up his dreams just because he needed to do extra work at a certain subject.

Professor McGonagall admired his determination and so offered to tutor him more outside of class hours. He appreciated her offer even though his workload increased.

Slowly, but surely, he understood the subject more and could transfigure something into his desired object after a single try.

It was all going well until a particular Transfiguration class, made up of seventh year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. McGonagall had the idea of dividing the class into pairs for a class assignment and Phil found himself paired with Dan Howell.

Dan was a Gryffindor student in the same year as him and was one of the best at Transfiguration. Phil also had a major crush on him.

Phil stared at McGonagall in horror when he realised she paired him up with his crush. This did not bode well for him. Phil did some of his worst mistakes in Transfiguration when under pressure and there was no doubt in his mind that working with Dan would put him under plenty of pressure.

Dan sat down next to him and smiled. "Don't worry too much about the class work. I've heard from the Ravenclaws that the assignment is easy. We'll be okay."

Phil gave him a shaky smile and nodded. It's not as if he could tell Dan he was the reason for his panic without making his crush on him obvious.

Professor McGonagall levitated a goblet in front of all the pairs with a flick of her wand. "Today's group work requires you to transfigure the goblets in front of you into a beetle and then back into a goblet. Take turns and help each other out. You may begin."

Phil stared at the goblet in apprehension. How was he supposed to turn an inanimate object like the goblet into a beetle? His mind was a complete blank and he couldn't remember the proper spell to use. He grabbed his copy of 'A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration' and flipped through it, attempting to find the right spell.

Dan noticed this and took pity on him. "Remember when McGonagall had us transfigure a rat into a water goblet? This is the same thing, but the result is the opposite. The spell is the same though."

Phil felt himself relax. He remembered the particular lesson Dan was talking about and the spell. He was good at it as well and so he felt his panic lessen.

"Pronouncing the spell correctly is important but wand movement and posture are just as important," Dan was explaining.  

Phil knew all this, but he didn't interrupt. Instead, he nodded to show his understanding. This was the longest conversation him and Dan had ever had and he had no intention of ruining it.

Dan moved closer to him and took a hold of Phil's arm. "You need to hold your arm like this, tap the goblet three times sharply with your wand and then point the wand directly at the animal before saying the spell."

Phil could feel himself turn bright red when Dan placed a gentle hand on his lower back and told him to straighten up. "Perfect," Dan said once Phil did as asked. He left his hand on his back for longer than necessary but snatched it away with an awkward cough when he realised what he was doing. "Want to try it?"

Phil nodded and turned to face the goblet. He needed to get this right. Dan interrupted him as he lifted his wand to pronounce the spell. "You need to hold your arm a little higher, like this," he said, directing Phil's arm in the right position. "Whenever you're ready, just say 'Vera Verto'."

Phil knew the spell, and he was going to recite it as Dan told him to but he got distracted. Dan's hand was still resting on his arm and they were standing close enough to touch. Looking to the side, he found Dan already looking at him. If he moved his head just a little forward, their lips would touch.

"Vero Verta."

The screams of the other students warned Phil that something was not right, and it didn't take him long to figure out what the problem was.

In place of the goblet there wasn't a beetle, as McGonagall had asked of them but a gigantic, venomous spider. "Bloody hell," he gasped.

Dan raised his wand to transfigure the spider back into a goblet but he wasn't quick enough. The venomous spider attacked and bit his hand. Dan was left with no other choice other than to drop his wand with a pained yelp.

McGonagall intervened, turning the spider back into a goblet and giving Phil an exasperated look. "I thought we were long past silly mistakes Mr. Lester," she said.

A quick look at Dan's swelling hand told her what she was already suspecting. "Mr. Howell you need to go to the hospital wing right away. The spider was venomous and leaving it untreated for too long could be dangerous."

Dan didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his bag and made his way outside without saying another word.

"I think it's best if we stop the lesson here for today. We'll pick up where we left off in the next lesson if Mr. Lester can promise not to invite more spiders during our lesson."

Phil was mortified. He had made a complete fool of himself by messing up a spell they learned in second year, and that was not even the worst part.

What really made Phil wish he could go to his dorm room and hide there forever was knowing his mistake caused Dan to get hurt.

Dan had been so nice; trying to help him out when he realised Phil was panicking and even teaching him how the spell was properly done. Phil had shown his appreciation by getting him sent to the hospital wing with a venomous spider bite.

Even though Phil wanted to hide forever and never face Dan again, he knew he would have to. Since he was the reason Dan was in the hospital in the first place, Phil thought it only fair he visits him and apologises for the accident.

Phil got the box of chocolate frogs he got the last time he went to Hogsmeade and made his way to the hospital wing.

He was relieved to see Dan sitting up in bed, looking bored. It didn't seem like the spider did too much damage for Madame Pomfrey to heal.

"Hey," Phil said sheepishly, walking over to Dan's bedside. "Are you feeling better?"

Dan smiled at him and it worked wonders in calming down Phil's nerves. He was terrified that Dan would hate him for what happened and never speak to him again so he was glad to note that wasn't the case.

"I feel as good as new. Madame Pomfrey got most of the swelling down so I'm not in danger anymore. She's forcing me to spend the night here for observation. I'm not too happy about that but I guess it could have been worse so I can't complain."

Phil winced in sympathy. He knew how annoying it was having to spend the night all alone in the hospital wing, with no one to keep you company.

He got out the box of chocolate frogs from behind his back and presented them to Dan. "I wanted you to have these. Consider them an apology gift for getting you sent to the hospital," he explained. "I swear I know the spell but I guess I got distracted."

Dan accepted the box of chocolate frogs, a grin on his face. "Thank you! There's no need for you to apologise though, I know it was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, it was kind of my fault for distracting you," he admitted, looking embarrassed.

Phil stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean... you weren't very subtle," he admitted. "I've caught you looking at me in the Great Hall and during lessons. I thought I'd see for myself if you liked me. I was curious because... I like you. I like you a lot Phil."

It wasn't everyday Phil got told by his crush they liked him too and so, he felt he could be excused for his reaction. Phil swallowed badly and choked on his own spit.

When he got himself under control, he looked at Dan and glared at him when he saw him fighting off laughter. "You should give people a warning before telling them their crush is mutual," he said, but he also chuckled.

"Does this mean that if I were to ask you to to go to Hogsmeade with me on a date, you would say yes?" Phil wondered, hoping he didn't get it wrong.

"I would like that," Dan said, smiling. "Promise me something though."

"Anything."

"No more transfiguring goblets into venomous spiders," Dan said with a laugh and ducked before the box of chocolate frogs Phil threw at him could hit him in the face.

"I make no promises."

A/N: Did you enjoy it? Make sure to let me know what you think!

If you guys are interested in watching the actual scene in Harry Potter where they're taught how to turn an animal into a goblet, you can watch it HERE

I'm also going to mention the Day 5 fic really quickly. The comments regarding the smut scene were very positive so I was wondering if you'd like to see more smut in the 25 Days of Christmas? Let me know!

Look forward to Day 7 where we'll be seeing... superheroes.

[aeternallis]

Title: Black Noise

Series: Owari no Seraph Pairing: Hyakuya Mikaela x Hyakuya Yuuichirou Rating: M (18+) Summary: Growing up in the same orphanage and having known each other for more than ten years, the last thing Yuuichirou expected to feel towards Mikaela, the man he was utterly in love with, was animalistic hostility when his first rut finally came upon him. It was indeed the most unusual and bizarre of situations they found themselves in—and perhaps—neither of those two words could even begin to describe it.

Enamored with his childhood best friend, but also compelled to feel a tenacious compulsion of antagonism towards him, how does an Alpha-born Yuu find a balance to control his emotions and instincts when Mika is also struggling with the same exact challenge?

PWP // Omega!Verse // Alpha!Mikaela x Alpha!Yuuichirou

AO3

It was perhaps the most fundamental truth of their world: not everyone is born equal. Alphas dominate the metaphorical food chain of their society; doctors, lawyers, world leaders, men and women of position and prestige who held the power to change the course of history, figures with incredible charisma. Then there are the Betas, the most common race, no different than the thousands upon thousands of worker ants who served their Queen, people who are of no consequence, but one of millions and barely a dot in the overall grand design of whatever malevolent god or gods were out there.

And finally the Omegas, the core—essentially the heart—of the human race, for without them, there were no other means of survival and to keep history alive, thus giving the Alphas and Betas the indispensable means to which they could leave some semblance of proof that they had once existed.

An individual is born to only one of these three categories and for the rest of one's life, this single label, conceivably even more important than one's own name, would determine one's choices and opportunities, how far one could and should ever allow one's self to dream.

It was an archaically crude set of laws, barbaric, uncivilized—inhuman. It mocked them all with its deafening absolution, impenetrable and impervious to any challenge.

Yuuichirou smirked cynically at the last thought as a bead of sweat rolled down his face, clutching his chest as another wave of pain racked throughout his entire body, the very nerves inside the walls of his heart burning with lust—for the gratifying effects of either violence or copulation, he had absolutely no idea.

Nonetheless, regardless of such foolish sentiments and arguments, it was the one and only simplistic system in reality that has never failed, but quite the contrary, allowed the World to flourish and advance for thousands of years over, undaunted by the all too often ravaging flow of time. As far as common sense goes, why question a functioning machine?

Such a truth—a fact really, has been drilled into his head over and over again for so long that even now, when the pillars and cornerstones of his beliefs were steadfastly crumbling into traitorous grains of sand within his being, slipping through the cracks of his mind and the tips of his fingers, he still couldn't permit himself to let go, to relish in the fact that his life had now taken on the role of a miscalculation in the aforementioned grand design.

In the back of his head, Yuuichirou thought to himself how in some way, he really should have considered himself quite honored. This shit was a big deal.

But no...there was no badge of honor or recognition to be gained from this ordeal, none whatsoever...not when his only impulse at that moment was to pummel Mika to the ground and force him into submission, until the blond cried out for mercy and finally gave into his dominance. To witness his body become willingly pliant in his arms, the satisfaction of triumphing over his best friend...nothing else could give him any greater pleasure than searing such a decadent scene into the landscape of his mind.

Lifting his head to take a quick glance at the other boy, Yuu wasn't the least bit surprised to find dangerous, crazed azure eyes stalking him from the other end of the room, snarling and biting his lip in both longing and hatred.

Only a fool wouldn't have understood that the same exact thing was probably going through Mika's mind, his fists flexing at his side while he tried to control the throbbing need to lunge for Yuuichirou, sunflower-colored locks sticky with sweat and clinging to his forehead, creating a surreal picture of what could only be described as a handsome, almost celestial figure in the brink of madness.

Within the ocean of instinct he tried to keep himself afloat in, Yuu's heart ached with a deep melancholy he could barely fathom; never in his life had he ever imagined that Mikaela could look at him with such intensity...and it was by no means the look he'd craved for in so long. The other man looked like he was ready to murder him, if not for the telltale signs of arousal that was quite evident through his pants.

Mikaela's voice growled, making his challenge known, the echoes of his hostility reverberating throughout the entire room.

Yuu gritted his teeth, his nails agonizingly digging against the wall behind him, the flare of indignity running through his blood, making him see nothing but red. The prospect of a challenge directed solely at him made the animal trapped inside his chest bare its fangs, its claws extending in readiness for a vicious fight and its eyes flashing with enmity.

The last of his consciousness tried to keep the monster at bay, trying his damndest to come up with some sort of way out of this situation, but helplessly coming up with nothing.

Was there any way to fight what his body longed for, whatever it was that it badly needed?

He let out a ragged breath and tried to hold onto the inner chains that kept his impulses at bay, summoning his last ounce of control to buy them both some more time. A stupid question...and an even more foolish endeavor, truthfully speaking. Still, Yuuichirou has never considered himself very smart to begin with, despite his newly known status as an Alpha, so really...it couldn't have been any more idiotic than he himself made it out to be.

He lurched forward, kneeling on the ground to gain back some semblance of his bearings together, sweat dripping down his arms and onto the hard ground. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mika also fight to regain control of himself, sliding down against the wall until he was crouched on all fours, lifting a hand to steady his forearm, his shoulders filled with tension.

That comforted Yuuichirou somewhat, at least. Licking his lips unconsciously, he tried to count the number of parallel lines across the floors, distracting himself as much as possible, before the inevitable eventually descended on them both.

On the other side of the room, an open case with three syringes filled with medicine lay open, ready for the taking and all the more a silent witness to their mutual struggle.

It was only a matter of time.

The facility was dark and barely lit when he finally came inside, his footsteps echoing loudly into the entry way of the laboratory, the stench of sterile medicine and newly cleaned equipment hanging heavily in the air. There were only a handful of doctors present, with two nurses scurrying around like headless chickens while keeping watch over the two patients' vital signs.

As he pushed the double doors closed behind him, the locks subtlety slid into place, and Guren turned briefly, his gaze narrowing behind him at the sound of the eerie contraption.

Further in, the two original Omegas who had been assigned for Yuuichirou and Mikaela sat demurely right next to each other on a small bench, the miniature security lights on the collars around their necks flashing green every couple of seconds, their eyes empty and dismal, a dulled maroon, while they would occasionally glance towards the other doctors in the room, biting their lips in apprehension.

It wasn't difficult to tell that they were heavily medicated at the moment, their eyes dilated.

Guren paid them no mind, choosing instead to look at the folders that contained their profiles, his eyes scanning the information with mechanical precision.

______________________________

Omega :: Saotome Yoichi → Amane Yuuichirou Sex: Male Weight: 50kg Height: 165cm Date of Birth: 23/11/2456 Blood type: B

______________________________ Omega :: Rida Akane → Shindou Mikaela Sex: Female Weight: 46kg Height: 157cm Date of Birth: 15/09/2457 Blood type: O ______________________________

Barely glancing at the two as he walked past them, he flipped through the pages of the medical report, finding it interestingly alarming that Yuu and Mika had had the capacity to actually reject their assigned mates, especially in the midst of their first ruts.

Both parties had been given separate rooms in a different wing of the hospital and subsequently left alone for almost three days, with the occasional caretakers leaving behind food and water for them at the door, only to emerge with not a single session of fornication having taken place. An extremely irritable Yuuichirou and Mikaela (though still coherent) had been immediately put under observation, while the other two were quickly sedated, the painful, unfulfilled arousal of their heats making their body temperatures spike to unnatural levels.

Afterwards, the doctor assigned to their case offered to pair them up with another set of Omegas, but both vehemently refused, opting instead for the usage of aphrodisiacs, to be negotiated in private between them as to who will be injected. As neither of them had appointed another power of attorney in their stead, and having signed a liability form, the doctor had no choice but to agree and referred them to the Head of the Genitourinary Department.

In other words, Kureto's territory.

As Guren glanced at the date of when the last notes were taken, his steps halted abruptly, the shock evident on his face. Shaking his head in disbelief, he flipped to the next page of the report, becoming distraught when he realized that nothing else had been written.

The two Omegas were now looking at him, their eyes fearful.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tried to calm himself down, lifting his gaze from the report and immediately spotting the man he was looking for in the observation deck of the lab, the latter's eyes utterly sharp and devoid of any emotion while he watched the two men from the other side of the glass like a hawk, unmoved as they struggled in futility to maintain their composure.

Guren shook his head in disgust, before striding forward.

"What are you trying to play at, Kureto?" the doctor asked furiously from behind the other man, his eyes critical, his mouth forming a sneer as he watched the two young men through the thick glass panes, their forms still slouched on opposite sides of the room. He walked forward to get a better look, his hands clenching tightly at his sides.

"I would think that you of all people would understand my reasons," Kureto replied solemnly, his gaze not leaving the scene in front of him, the lab coat he wore making him look menacing and unapproachable. "It has always been my personal policy that not a single threat to the World will be tolerated."

"Even if the cost are two Alphas?"

Kureto let out a chuckle, shaking his head in a condescending manner. "Two flawed Alphas, if I may remind you. Two Alphas who somehow became attracted to one another, perhaps much more."

"They have yet to fully mature into their status...by all respects, they are still only children—"

"The earlier the problem is found and acknowledged, the better the chances are for fixing it permanently—"

"Kureto!" Guren cut him off furiously, earning him a chilly glare from the other doctor in return. "This is paramount to malpractice!"

He paused, jabbing a finger against the folders he clutched tightly in his hand, before continuing on. "The notes that Shinya wrote up were dated a week ago! A week—you held off that long on giving them any kind of aphrodisiac or sedative, until they could no longer see straight! I'm honestly surprised they're not dead yet...!"

"And your point is?"

Guren blinked slowly, his breath hitching incredulity. "My point...? That's all you can say?"

"'The emotional state...can never overcome the body's impulses,'" Kureto recited to him, turning around to fully look Guren in the eye, folding his hands behind him while he signaled another doctor to keep observing Yuu and Mika. "That has always been our truth as medical professionals, wouldn't you agree Dr. Ichinose?"

He couldn't utter a reply, his mind not knowing what to think.

"What they pose is a problem...surely you realize that," the other man continued on, tilting his head towards the window. "In the field of medicine, we have made numerous advancements in the physiology of humans, because impulses...our natural instincts, are nothing more than an intricate set of biological chemistries, tangible and easily seen under a microscope. It is but a mere solvable puzzle, albeit a gigantic one at that, but still a possible feat to map out all its complexities.

But emotions...emotions are illogical. They complicate the order of things, and blur the seams of an orderly society—"

This time, it was Guren's turn to laugh in a patronizing manner, shaking his head in sarcasm. "Or maybe you're just an angry old man who's fucking bitter that his life's work is now on the verge of being disproven."

Kureto's mouth twitched, reigning in his temper at the latter's insinuation. "And what do you mean by that?"

Guren scoffed, finding it almost surreal that his colleague could be so clueless and ignorant. "Maybe those two boys are just that damn loyal to each other."

Kureto's mouth twitched at hearing the other man's response, his eyes becoming hollow once more as he glanced back towards his two patients, biting his lip subtly in contemplation. His shoulders visibly relaxing, he folded his hands behind him again, standing straight, the very image of a medical professional. He spoke up again, his expression neutral. "Did you read all of Shinya's notes, doctor?"

Guren eyed him with suspicion at the abrupt changing of the subject, before turning to look at Yuu and Mika as well, the medical file still clutched at his side. His next response was terse, giving nothing away. "Yes, I did."

"Then surely you've realized the implication of it...I presume?"

He didn't know how to respond, only holding onto the medical folder more tightly as he continued to observe the two figures from the other side of the glass, pitying them with all his heart. An Alpha himself, Guren completely understood the pain of going through a rut, the very first one at that.

Ignoring his colleague for a moment, he walked closer to the window, chewing his lip.

"Come now, doctor. Your memory can't be that bad already. We've only witnessed this kind of incident once at this hospital, and unfortunately, thatpatient now lies buried six feet below ground. This is an opportunity—"

Without warning, the sound of paper scattering in the air could be heard as Guren abruptly threw the file against the table and grabbed the other man by the collar, shoving him towards the opposite wall. At the sudden movement, the other doctors quickly stood up, intending to separating both of them, but Kureto signaled them to stay away, smirking instead at his assailant. "Heh...did I struck a nerve?"

"Don't you dare bring Mahiru into this," Guren whispered viciously at him, gritting his teeth.

"They called her 'the mad princess' in my family...and she was, wasn't she, Guren?"

"Shut your mouth—"

"An Alpha who was willing to submit? Such a ridiculous, nonsensical notion, and I was right, wasn't I—"

"Enough—"

"And when at last we gave her Shinya, and she finally succumbed to the urges of her own body, the trauma of the incident broke her so much that she killed herself, poor thing—"

He couldn't take any more, and lifting a fist, squarely punched Kureto on the face, sending the other man flying backwards, his form smacking against the wall. Before Guren could take another step towards him however, another doctor held him back from doing so, kicking him hard on the shins so he fell to the floor, the doctor securely holding him down.

Kureto sat back against the wall, rubbing his cheek gently as a nurse ran to his side, shakily handing him an ice pack, his eyes blank as he regarded Guren with a cool gaze. "Haha...to speak truth, I'm not that surprised you sympathize with those two right now. You've always been the predictable sort."

"You forced them into this situation—"

"On the contrary, they agreed to it. All paperwork has been done and filed away—"

"Then they had no choice but to agree to it!" the other man yelled angrily, still pinned down to the floor as he tilted his head towards the direction of the window. "What do you want from them?! At this rate, they might as well kill each other! Why did you withhold the aphrodisiacs for this long?!"

"I want answers, that's all. Because I will not make the same mistake Father did."

Guren could only stare at him in surprise, not understanding what the other man meant to imply. "What—what are you...?!"

Kureto gave him a cryptic smile, before standing up and dusting himself off, his hand holding the ice pack to his cheek while he walked back towards the window, his eyes full of conviction. "When Father assigned Shinya to Mahiru, he didn't count on the fact that my sister would kill herself afterwards...that she had felt so much for you that she would eventually lose herself in the process. We lost a precious Alpha, one who was, frankly speaking, a thousand times more valuable compared to you."

Guren inwardly rolled his eyes at the insult, letting it slide off of him as he struggled to free himself from the other doctor who still held him down.

"Between you and Mahiru, my sister was far more useful, any idiot could see that," Kureto continued on, his verbal jabs towards his colleague remaining undeterred. "But alas...it's no use regretting the past, now is it?"

"That still doesn't explain what you want to do with them."

The other man merely let out a chuckle in response, lifting a syringe filled with a strange blue liquid from a metallic tray nearby, eyeing the odd-colored medicine with what could only be described as a vindictive expression. "If neither one of them are willing to take an Omega for an assigned mate...then we will see who is the far more superior Alpha between them. We couldn't do it with you and Mahiru, not that the result wasn't obvious enough, but they will do nicely."

"So that's why you withheld any sort of medication from them...you purposefully reduced them to the state they're in now..." Guren murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, his voice sounding utterly stunned.

"Natural selection is the only way to find out, after all,"  Kureto said easily enough, shrugging his shoulders. "And besides...if they both make it out of this alive, all the better for it. But if one of them has to die, then I'm sure they'd much rather prefer to die with the one they love, as you mean to imply, in this way. Surely you see that it's a win-win situation for us, regardless of the outcome."

With a deeply instilled cynicism inside of his heart, Kureto laughed internally at his last comment, resuming his observation of the two young men. "That's enough, Aoi. You can let him go now," he called out nonchalantly, placing the syringe back on the tray.

Roughly shoving himself away from the blond-haired doctor once she was no longer pinning him down, Guren quickly ran over to where Kureto had placed the medium-sized injection, his gaze carefully inspecting the syringe, eyeing it with uncertainty. "This aphrodisiac...it's not the standard pills we regularly prescribe. What's different about it?"

"It still has the same properties of the standard pill, I assure you, just with different measurements. It has triple the dosage of Carisoprodol, and double the dosage for Delatestryl and Mirapex. It'll be more than enough to trick their bodies into mimicking the functions of an Omega as well," Kureto explained patiently. "I synthesized it myself, actually."

Guren gritted his teeth at the arrogant tone of Kureto's voice, fighting the urge to crush the syringe in his hand. "And so you want to watch them both fight to the death...to see who gets to inject who. That's fucking sick."  

The other man laughed out loud, shaking his head at the ludicrous idea. "You look down on me too much, Guren. I'll have you know that voyeurism is not to my tastes."

And as if the situation couldn't be any more perfectly timed, Aoi pressed a button from underneath her desk, the glass window where Yuu and Mika could be seen fading into white, until it became a nondescript computer screen, with their vitals clearly displayed for anyone to read while the sensors from the other room continuously updated their levels.

"Keep track of their heart rates for the time being," Kureto barked out to their other colleagues, taking a seat right next to Aoi. "Mito, I want you to put them both on 30-minute monitoring for the next three hours, we'll see if there's any spikes to their blood pressure."

He turned to Guren who still continued to stand, his gaze filled with undisguised distrust. The former tilted his head towards an empty chair, inviting him to sit. "We are on the verge of a medical advancement, Dr. Ichinose. As doctors, there is no greater honor than this."

From his tone alone, it wasn't hard to detect the threat behind it. Guren had known from the very beginning since entering the room, that he'd already forfeited any chance of keeping his hands clean from this experiment; he was as much an accomplice to this now as the rest of his colleagues here, and he will have no choice but to deal with the consequences later.

He shook his head, sighing with weariness.

Without saying another word, Guren took the pre-offered chair and plopped himself down, crossing his arms as he turned his attention to the computer screen, taking out his notepad and pen for any notes he may need to write down.

For now, he had no choice but to hope for the best and pray that the two teenagers from the other side make it out of this somehow.  

The large vents from the corner of the small room billowed out cold gusts of air, relentless and powerful, ringing in his ears until it was the only other outside stimulation he could still somewhat comprehend within the fog inside his mind. Yuuichirou could feel it in his bones, crawling along his spine like a menacing, ominous ghost: the indescribable urge to do...something, a sense of craving that made him thoroughly breathless, his chest heaving up and down, trying to pump more oxygen in his body, his eyes darting back and forth around the room to find any way to alleviate what it was he so badly needed.

He had been fine a couple of minutes ago—well, as "fine" as anyone could be, given their situation. His control had not yet slipped, and for the most part, he and Mika had been managing just as well.

But now, his hold on his own consciousness was rapidly slipping through his fingers, the monster inside of him on the brink of breaking down the walls that kept him caged inside. In his head, he could picture himself standing in front of a large, stone gate, its edifice crumbling by the second, his heartbeat matching the pace in which his other "self" continuously pounded against his prison, howling in indignation.

Any second now...soon...

Carefully opening his eyes, Yuuichirou took a deep gulp and turned his gaze towards the open case of syringes, licking his lips slowly, his eyes darkening in understanding.

Yes, there it was...the means in which he could finally give his other self what it's been yearning for all this time.

He bit his lip harshly, clutching his chest in one hand as his eyes remained focused on the syringes a couple of feet away from him, just ready for the taking. As if he were a madman, Yuu couldn't help but let out a crazed laugh, his cheeks flushed with a sudden burst of adrenaline, his smile wide. In his ears, he faintly heard the monster smash through the stone walls of its dwelling inside his mind and raced to claim his body.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that Mikaela's eyes had widened in panic, his body getting ready to pounce.

A tear (whether from the madness of their circumstances or remorse, he dared not think abot the answer any more than it was necessary to do so) discreetly rolled down his cheek, and at last...he gave up control. A dark crimson slowly crept from the corner of his irises, until it rapidly took over the vibrant, forest-green of his eyes within seconds, its very color making him look otherworldly.

All other sounds faded away, a black noise that permeated in the air, and in a flash, Yuuichirou felt himself dash across the room, making a desperate bid to grab a syringe, his logical, sane self falling away into a deep slumber. The rush of energy he felt propelled his legs forward in a relentless sprint, but before his finger tips could even touch the fragile injections, he felt the wind savagely knocked out of him as another body crashed against his, sending them both flying across the floor.

"Gahhh—!"

It took him a second to regain any semblance of footing, his nose flaring in shock. Shaking his head out of its stupor, Yuuichirou found himself looking up at Mikaela's threatening form, his bright red eyes sending him a clear invitation for a confrontation. His body abruptly becoming filled with the hot flare of indignity, Yuu tried to viciously kick the blond away from him, but to no avail. Mika had pinned both of his legs down while straddling him and was currently holding both his wrists above his head, a smirk making its way on his handsome facade.

It was precisely the very type of expression Yuu wanted to punch off of his best friend's face, the cocky smile directed towards him fanning the inferno of heat within his body. He squirmed against the other man's hold, trying to free his legs. It was no use getting  leverage over the blond with his hands, but if he could just get his knees free, they might be more evenly matched.

They had only just begun, and Yuuichirou's pride wouldn't allow him to be taken down so easily, nor could he admit that he was internally admonishing himself for letting his guard down in the most foolish way; realizing his stupid, idiotic mistake, he knew to himself that he shouldn't have gone for the damn syringes so openly like that.

Damn it all...!

"Give into me, Yuu-chan..." the other man murmured out of nowhere in his ear, the latter's grip tightening around his wrists, enough that Yuuichirou knew for sure that they were going to leave a heavy set of bruises. And almost as if he were wanting to taunt the black-haired man, Mika moved his hips and began rocking against his crotch, making Yuu see stars in his field of vision.

They both couldn't help but let out a guttural moan, Mikaela's mouth forming a lewd 'o', his breaths heaving unevenly. They were both still wearing their pants, and even at the slightest contact of their groins, it was more than enough to get Yuuichirou achingly hard, his hips thrusting upwards unconsciously, trying to create more friction between them.

"I always thought you looked so much better underneath me, and see here, you just proved my point."  

At that last comment, Yuu let out a furious growl, frantically fidgeting as the blond mocked him with his low, sultry voice. "Get off of me, you bastard...!"

"Well now, that's not going to happen," the other man replied as a matter-of-factly, before he dove straight for Yuu's mouth, assaulting him while one hand kept his wrists pinned to the ground, the other hand snaking underneath the boy's shirt to pinch his nipples, massage the skin of his taut stomach. His abs felt like steel beneath the blond's fingers, and he couldn't help but feel amused at the self-righteousness of his partner.

"Yuu-chan, don't you like this?"

Trying to ply Yuu's mouth open with a deep kiss, Mika let out a frustrated yelp when he suddenly felt the other man's teeth lodging itself against his bottom lip, and plunging his canines downwards, piercing his flesh. He ripped his mouth away from Yuu, turning his head away for a brief second as he looked down at the beads of blood that dripped onto his shirt, bringing his thumb to swipe against the small wound.

For a split second, Mikaela could do nothing but stare at him with a stunned gaze, the small trail of blood still running down his chin. He let out a disbelieving gasp towards Yuuichirou, who gave him a triumphant, arrogant smile, his scarlet eyes flashing, daring him to come at him once more. At the sight of such defiance, the blond gritted his teeth, before sticking out his tongue to lick his lips, wiping his mouth once more with the back of his hand.

Settling himself more comfortably against Yuu, Mika let out a snicker, thoroughly becoming amused by the other man.

"That wasn't very nice, Yuu-chan," Mika scolded him playfully, almost as if there was no fire burning inside his veins at that moment, his face entirely serene and seemingly devoid of any internal turmoil, if not for the burning, wine-like color of his eyes. Wanting to punish his partner, Mikaela rolled his hips against Yuu once more, harder this time, so that the latter would be more than aware of how ready he was for him, trying to maintain his pace to be as consistent as possible. He dug his fingers into the other man's wrists, entwining their fingers together, the movements of the lower half of his body looking so carelessly obscene.

Unable to control his body's reactions, Yuu let out a groan, gritting his teeth as he fought against the waves of pleasure and pain, his hands clenching tightly, his voice coming out in harsh breaths. "Maybe if you let me go...I can be really...generous with you...!"

"Ah, but I rather like this look on you, so thanks, but no thanks," Mika replied with easy confidence, infuriating his friend beyond measure.

There was nothing to hold onto, and goddammit if what Mika was doing to him didn't feel so damn incredible...! Yuuichirou hated yet loved the contradiction of it all, how his mind fought against such humiliating dominance, even as his body craved more, begged for more. And what he hated the most—what he loathed with his entire being—was that the contradiction he felt made the situation all the more intoxicating for him, the arousal he felt flaring inside his body magnifying itself even more, trapping him in a cage of heat.

He closed his eyes tightly and forced himself to enjoy his partner's ministrations, while his brain waited—calculated for an opening to get the upper hand. Focused as he was in his own thoughts, he barely noticed the syringe that Mika held in his hand, his eyes widening in astonishment when he finally realized that the case of injections was now no more than a couple of inches away from them, cursing himself even further for not being vigilant.

He tried desperately to wiggle and shake his way out of Mika's iron grip, his legs bouncing up and down, his movements making him look like some petulant child. He didn't care, only that he needed to get a syringe in his hand before Mika took them all for himself, his voice grunting with effort, his eyes wild, as if filled with a boundless tenacity. He turned his head towards the case, eyeing it with a heedless frenzy, his fingers flexing in frustration. He could feel himself starting to panic, his brain going in all sorts of directions, unable to form any coherent thought.

Distracted as he was, he only felt the jab of the needle at his side when it was too late, Mika's thumb pressing down on the plunger as he emptied the injection into Yuu's bloodstream.

Yuuichirou's mouth gaped open, letting out a soundless gasp when he immediately realized what Mikaela had just done, turning his head to look at the blond once more, only to be faced with a lewd expression on his best friend's face, the way his pale cheeks were flushed with exhilaration, his locks, moist with perspiration, clinging on his forehead, his mouth smiling with unadulterated arrogance.

Fuck...fuck!

It didn't take long for the chemicals to take effect, the odd concoction racing through his veins, rendering him completely helpless and at the mercy of his friend. Within seconds, he felt his body become pliant and almost weightless, as if he were floating on the surface of the ocean, having no choice but to allow the waves to lull him into a peaceful slumber. The tension in his body fading away, his mind screamed in anger, indignant lividness flaring in his chest, the posture of submission his body made going wholly against his instinct.

But he knew he was fighting a losing battle, even as he stubbornly clung to the last threads of his nature as an Alpha. By all means, from what the doctors had explained to them earlier, the effects were temporary, lasting only thirty to forty minutes at most. Even so, the very idea of it was more than enough for him to snarl at his best friend, forcing out the words from his mouth before his mind was finally engulfed in arousal. "You're...gonna pay...for this, you—!"

Mikaela cut him off with a searing kiss, threading his fingers in his onyx hair, his lips turned up in a lazy smile. This time, the blond encountered no resistance as his best friend wholeheartedly returned the intensity of his kiss, moaning from deep in his throat as the injection fully took over Yuuichirou's body. His eyes had become hooded with greed, and when Mika let go of his hands to bring their hips closer together, there was no need to worry that the latter would try anything underhanded—as he had anticipated, Yuu was completely his for the taking now.

Letting out a maddening chuckle, the blond plundered his best friend even deeper, encouraging the other man to open his mouth wider, his affections becoming almost a little too reckless. His eyes still bright with excitement, Mikaela decided right then and there that he would enjoy himself to the fullest, at least until the medicine wore off. Until that time came however, the perpetual high of knowing that he had complete control over their situation made him want to shout out loud, as if declaring his conquest.

He broke away from Yuu's lips with a smack, lifting his head heavenwards as he brought a hand to cover his face for a second, his hand clenching tightly on his hair, his eyes closed, as if he were meditating. And when he opened them again, the wild red from moments ago had been replaced by a warm rose color, a calmness settling itself, a shrewd, wily expression.

Keeping his eyes on Yuuichirou, he took in the dazed look, the beautiful, crimson flush of his tanned skin, the way his shirt had skittered upwards from when they had wrestled each other to the ground, a hint of his flat stomach peeking through. Licking his lips at the sight of his "meal" in front of him, Mika gave Yuu one last smile before diving in, intending to drown them both in the abundance of pleasure.

The blond wasted no time, hungrily peppering Yuu's neck with wet kisses all along his neck, his collarbone, along the valley of his pectorals. Frantically, he pulled at the other boy's shirt, grunting in frustration when the cloth somehow managed to twist itself around his elbow. Being careful not to pull too hard and inadvertently snap Yuuichirou's arm off, he uncoiled the shirt and threw it against the far wall, leaning forward once more and opening his mouth to lick and bite at his friend's nipples, baring his teeth like a deranged animal.

He moved further down, using his lips as an invisible marker to trace his partner's skin, stopping just short of where the edge of his pants were. At the sight of Yuu's subtle, throbbing manhood, Mika let out an amused grin, laughing softly to himself.

"Look at how you're so excited..." the blond mumbled playfully as he nuzzled his nose against his friend's hard on, his fingers languidly sliding the zipper down, until he could see the surface of Yuu's briefs bulging out against his arousal. "Didn't I say how much more beautiful you are when you're underneath me?"

Yuuichirou gave him no answer, lost as he was within the mist of the injection's effects. Not that Mika was waiting for one to begin with anyhow; he found it perfectly agreeable that his best friend was so docile as he was right then, and he reached up for a moment, caressing the side of Yuu's face. His thumb circling underneath his right eye, the other man leaned into the blond's touch, letting out a sigh of contentment.

Eventually pulling his hand away, Mika encouraged his friend to lift his hips up, sliding the briefs and jeans down together up to his ankles, relishing the light shudder that crawled up his spine in elation. Smirking at the sight in front of him and without any ceremony or warning, he took Yuu deep in his mouth, groaning with his partner in tandem when the latter let out a soundless gasp, his eyes widening at the sensation of warmth in his groins.

Instinctively, Yuuichirou fingers tried to clutch at anything that was within grabbing distance, barely managing to hold himself back from making a pass at one of the other injections that lay innocently near him. Mika was surprisingly sharp and observant, even in this state, and he would no doubt sense what his friend was trying to do. This being the case, he couldn't make a grab for it just yet...not yet.

Making a snap decision, Yuuichirou's hands chose instead to clutch at his partner's hair, pulling Mika's face closer, to take his cock further in. As the blond's tongue swirled and licked all around the head, his saliva running up and down the shaft, Yuu's mouth formed a racy 'o', spreading his legs farther apart to accommodate his best friend for a mere second, before deciding to wrap his legs around Mika's upper back, his toes curling in ecstasy.

"Ahhh...ahhh, Mika...!" he moaned out loud, unabashed, his skin exposed to the open air and bared to anyone who may have cared to look. He could feel himself getting wet in the other spot, the artificial slick, induced by the drugs, making him more aroused by the second. And when Mikaela moved his mouth further down, the indecent sound of his lips moving against velvety flesh audible in their ears, his hands moving to massage his balls, Yuuichirou shook his head as if in a frenzy, wanting and yet not wanting to reach for that glorious, mind-numbing release.  

He unfurled his legs around Mika's form, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he inevitably felt his orgasm slowly coming to undo him. His fingers tightened around the blond's hair, coarsely pulling at them, hinting for his friend to move away. Even so, Mikaela refused to move an inch, his mouth still bobbing up and down, merciless in his pace.

"Mika...please—I'm about to—!"

If anything, the blond only began to suck harder, his eyes blissfully closed in pleasure. His tongue curled around the hardened length, running his lips over and over against the tiny slit, sending electric shocks of pleasure up Yuu's spine, his nerves coming alive beneath his skin.

Yuuichirou gritted his teeth, his eyes tearing up a bit, but before he could say anything else, Mika brought a hand to cover his friend's mouth, the side of his index finger sliding along between Yuu's lips. Yuu sucked on the slim digit to distract his attention, permitting himself to bite down firmly, but not enough to draw blood like last time. Within seconds, his cum spilled into the cavern of the blond's mouth, and this time, he couldn't keep quiet anymore, the unabashed noises he made bouncing against the walls as he panted none too discreetly, his eyes still shut.

"Ahh...ahh...!" Yuu moaned, a light sheen of sweat covering his chest, beads of moisture sliding down the side of his face. Even so, there was no time to allow himself to gently return from his orgasm, not when Mika suddenly slammed his mouth against his, tasting himself against the blond's lips. Curling their tongues together, their kiss gradually became deeper as drops of his ejaculate slid down both their throats, until there was nothing left.

Breaking away from the kiss this time, Yuuichirou turned to look at his partner's face once more, breathing through his mouth while the blinding lights that filled his vision from his orgasm finally faded away. He couldn't say anything as Mikaela wordlessly lifted his hips off of the ground, the head of his cock teasing Yuu's opening. Yuu didn't even notice when Mika had a chance to unzip his own pants, but the drug made it so that he really couldn't have cared less anymore, his legs splayed out wide open to give his best friend some space to maneuver.

The artificial slick his body produced had pooled around his bottom, and unable to fight his instinct, Yuuichirou lifted his hips invitingly, giving his partner a hesitant smile. It was all the invitation Mika needed and in an instant, he plunged inside his lover, letting out a yell as the warmth inside Yuu filled him, his senses going on a maddening overdrive. He paused for a moment, leaning forward with one hand while the other lifted his friend's leg to wrap around his waist, bringing their bodies as close together as possible.

"You're so big...fuck, Mika...!" Yuuichirou groaned out loud, whining as his toes curled in pleasure, his hands flexing when he lifted a hand to clutch at his best friend's shoulder. "Stop stalling, move...! Dammit, you need to move—!"  

Barely were the words out before Mikaela gave his friend a firm slap on the face, the blond's teeth clenched tightly together as he forced the words out of his mouth, the tone of his voice sounding childish and petulant. "Don't you tell me what to do—!"

In the back of his mind, Yuuichirou couldn't help but find some amusement at their predicament; it really wasn't a surprise that even like this, they'd found a way to argue. Stubborn idiots as they both were, once more, he'd found some measure of comfort in what seemed like an impossible situation. And just as he'd demanded, Mikaela did begin to move, his pace going excruciatingly slow at first, almost as if he were wanting to build up their lovemaking into a type of demented crescendo, in which neither one of them would survive.

Yuu bit his lip hard, wanting to bop the blond on the head for torturing him like this, but he could honestly say to himself that he wasn't the least bit surprised. Mikaela has always had more self-control compared to him, and he was nothing if not a perfectionist. All the more reason Yuuichirou bided his time carefully, trying his utmost not to give in to his own eagerness; payback will be marvelously gratifying later.

Even still, as much as he hated to admit it, it was easier said than done. Yuu has never considered himself to be the patient type; ever since he was a child, living from orphanage to orphanage until he'd found a family, he had always been impulsive and prideful to a fault, more often than not preferring to head directly straight into the fray, rather than finding ways to move around it. Unlike Mika who knew how to use his good looks and intelligent mind to his advantage,  he acted out of instinct half the time, seizing what needed to get done based on his willpower and sheer force alone, fighting with tooth and nail if need be.

In the end, he was nothing more but a brute who'd somehow managed not to fuck things up in his life, at least not too badly; how he managed to be born an Alpha, hell if he would ever know the reason.

Regardless, an Alpha was still an Alpha, no matter how talentless he was. And so, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that he couldn't find it in himself to relax whatsoever. Even if Mika's hardened length slid in and out of him with such ease, its pulsating form massaging his inner walls with tear-inducing pleasure, making him see even brighter flashes of brilliant light as he shut his eyes at the electric shocks of euphoria running up his spine over and over, he still couldn't bring himself to submit to his lover, not in this way.

Reduced as he was on the floor like this...like some whimpering bitch in heat, Yuuichirou held onto his pride with everything he had, even as Mika seduced him with his entire body, whispering terms of endearment and panting in his ear with that sultry voice of his that never failed to make his admirers swoon, his sunflower locks mingling with his onyx, sweat-stained bangs. Yuu's muscles remained tense, his flat stomach hard as molded steel even as the blond deftly lifted his waist off of the ground, encouraging him to wrap his legs around his hips.

Yuuichirou shook his head, the last dregs of the medicine running through his veins, and he knew then that he was in the final stretch of this mortifying humiliation.

Even so, not yet...he couldn't make his move just yet, no matter how much his instinct fumed at him to take advantage of the blond's vulnerability, the mind of the Alpha within him urging him to move with precision. With a resolute nod, he complied against his own will, wrapping his legs around Mika's form to pull him in closer, a gesture of intimacy, biting his bottom lip in an effort to keep from crying out loud at the sizzling shocks of ecstasy running through his nerves.

At this point, the blond was already lost in his own pleasure, his pace moving faster and faster with frenzied abandon.

For a split second, Yuu couldn't help but feel awed at the sight; this is the first time he'd ever seen his best friend so bluntly unhinged, his expression utterly and shamelessly lustful, the bright red dusting of arousal making his pale skin look as if it were blooming in spring. And when they both finally came, their bodies wracking against each other as Mika dug his forehead in the crook of Yuu's neck, the latter etched his lover's beautiful expression in the crevices of his most-cherished memories, locking it away forever.

Spent as he was, Mika dropped Yuuichirou's legs from his waist, collapsing on top of him as he panted harshly against the latter's skin, bringing a hand to lovingly caress the jet black-colored hair of his best friend. He placed a soft kiss on the top of his collar bone, moaning in contentment. "Yuu-chan..."

At hearing his name, Yuu's eyes snapped open, the red irises becoming bright with anticipation. The effects of the medicine was beginning to wear off, his heartbeat pounding loudly against his chest he was so sure it would explode at any moment.

This is it, the moment he had been waiting for—!

While Mika continued to nuzzle his lover's skin, unbeknownst to him, Yuu stealthily reached for another one of the injections, his grip tight on the handle, taking advantage of the former's exhaustion. Abruptly, Yuuichirou trapped Mika's ankles against the floor with his own, wrapping an arm around his back and lifting the needle high in the air for a moment, before bringing down the needle to firmly press the sharp injection against the blond's side, his smile filled with smugness while his thumb pressed down to administer the drug.

Refusing to miss a single moment of turning the tables against the blond, Yuu watched the medicine smoothly drain into his friend's bloodstream.

At the sudden sensation of a stinging pain on his side, Mika yelped angrily, intending to move away from the other man as the haze of the afterglow from their lovemaking quickly dissipated from his mind. "What the hell are you—"

His accusations were cut short as Yuuichirou roughly pulled the injection out, the painful prickle suddenly becoming dull as the aphrodisiac concoction's effects immediately began to take over his body, and Mika realized with shock that he had let his guard down, preoccupied as he had been with his victory over his best friend. His eyes widening in disbelief  as he helplessly watched Yuu throw the empty injection across the room, before his vision turned upside down, his back loudly hitting the floor.

'This bastard...! He stole a needle while I wasn't looking...!' he thought frantically, albeit a little too late. Already he could feel his muscles relaxing, becoming heavy, as if he were losing control of his own limbs. He shut his eyes tightly from the sudden heat that spread across his chest, turning away from his best friend who was now straddling his waist, his face becoming flushed with animosity at having been caught off guard.

Unfortunately for him, Yuuichirou was not in the mood to be a gentle lover, his mouth grinning widely as he brusquely forced Mika's chin towards him, his thumb running across the soft skin of his cheek. "Don't you dare turn away from me now, of all times."

"The last thing I want to see right now is your face, you idiot...!" the blond retorted back weakly, his wavy hair splayed around the floor like a halo, his ears a bright scarlet from the tip. There was a different kind of flush across his cheeks that Yuu hadn't noticed before, the way his crimson eyes had darkened, his eyelids drooping, almost as if he were fast losing himself to the situation. "You cheated, Yuu-chan...! I got to the injections first, they're mine to use!"

"No one ever said either of us had to be fair," Yuuichirou flaunted with a cheeky tone, grinding his hips against the other man's, earning him an angry growl. "You should have paid more attention."

"It goes without saying, you knucklehead...! How could you—"

But he was cut off, with Yuu promptly clamping his partner's mouth shut, lunging for the blond's neck with a renewed vigor, raining down sloppy kisses around his neck and collarbone, marking him just beneath his ear, as if he were his territory. Mikaela gritted his teeth in abject humiliation, forcing himself to lay still, refusing to return the intimate gestures, even while his mind was becoming engulfed in a midst of pleasure, the medicine urging him to submit.

Vehemently, he cursed himself for not paying attention; having been so caught up in the moment, he had even forgotten to mark his best friend. Yuuichirou would have the one satisfaction he had forgone, all because of his damned clumsiness. Another tear of frustration rolled down his cheek, with Yuu catching it in time to lick it away, the arrogant grin still on his face.

The blond only turned away in response, letting out a loud "hmph!" while his teeth continued to gnash in agitation. Vainly, he tried to reach for the last injection, but with his limbs feeling like dead weight, the other man proved too fast for him, slapping the container away from where they were both situated, with Yuu letting out a feral grin as he slowly shook his head, wagging his finger as if scolding a child condescendingly.

"Uh uh uh...I won't fall for your tricks again, Mika."

Mikaela let out a frustrated yell as he forced his best friend off of him, thrashing about as much as his muscles would allow him, his bloodstream now heavily sedated with the strong aphrodisiac. He could feel himself hardening again, even though he had just emptied himself inside Yuu moments ago, the medicine eliminating any need of a refractory period for either of them.

"Now lay still," Yuuichirou instructed him firmly, gripping the latter's waist with both hands, licking his upper lip in a lascivious manner as his voice dropped to a low whisper. "It's my turn now."

"No...you cheated...!" Mika repeated out of sheer stubbornness, lifting his forearms despite their heaviness so that he could cover his eyes, a bead of moisture slipping out from his eye as he sniffed with petulance. His body no longer had the energy or willpower to rebel, so he could do nothing while Yuuichirou hiked his shirt upwards, laying his palms flat against his stomach, before sliding his hands languidly, taking his nipples between his fingers, rolling and pinching at them.

Mika gritted his teeth harshly, fighting down the urge to moan. Peeking up from beneath his forearms, he felt indignant when he realized that Yuuichirou had been staring at him the entire time, catching him off guard for the second time in a row. The blond was tempted to smack away the pompous expression on his friend's face, snarling even more when the other man snickered and moved away, only to feel a warm hand wrapping itself around his cock a second later.

The blond let out a loud gasp, his shoulders jumping in surprise.

"What...what are you...Yuu-chan, I—"

But once more, he couldn't say anything else, not when Yuuichirou squeezed his fingers together, making his breath hitch as a shiver of euphoria ran down his spine in response, his voice letting out a broken yelp. The other man began to pump move his hands up and down, occasionally running his thumb over the slit, pressing down experimentally. Eventually, pre-cum began to ooze out, and he leaned forward, leaking away the beads of translucent white.

His own hands flexing tightly, Mikaela clamped his mouth shut to keep from crying out, strands of blond hair caught in his teeth as more tears threatened to spill from his eyes, his thighs unconsciously moving further apart. He kept his forearms firmly pressed on top of his eyes,  his knees quivering with humiliating excitement.

At seeing Mikaela's sheer stubbornness, Yuu let out a frustrated sigh, moving his hand away momentarily to pry the blond's hands open, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. His mouth formed a sour expression, the color of his irises blazing.

"Why are you hiding from me?" he asked uncouthly, his voice sounding almost cold, although the last thing he felt was disinterest, his cock hard and ready to enter him any time.

Mika could only shake his head, expending a lot more effort than he had anticipated, and for the hundredth time, he swore internally, making a promise to make his best friend pay for what he subjected him to. As he moved to adjust his position more comfortably, he felt the slick moisture beneath his bottom, and he took a big gulp, thoroughly unbelieving that his body had succumbed to the effects of the medicine so easily. In his mind he couldn't help but accuse Yuuichirou of betraying him like this, subjecting him to this kind of torture.

Perhaps a tiny sliver of what was left of his rationale had a better grasp on the situation, that he really didn't have any right to complain; it was his own fault for letting his guard down, and Yuuichirou was nothing if not downright sneaky. And he was smart enough when to see an opportunity was his for the taking once he saw one. In fact, a part of him almost felt giddy at being beaten with the rug pulled out from under him, Mikaela thought with a sense of humbling admission, licking his lips unconsciously.

Even so, he too was an Alpha, and the resentment he felt far outweighed his amusement. He steeled his hands so that they stayed in place, not willing to yield when Yuuichirou tried to pull his arms apart, clenching his teeth to what he knew was a losing battle. He gathered the last ounce of his strength, focusing the intensity of his eyes towards his friend when his wrists were finally pinned above his head.

"You're a stubborn ass, you know that?" Yuuichirou mocked, while his other hand moved to wrap around Mika's length once more, resuming his ministrations. "Why don't you just relax and enjoy this?"

"Shut your mouth...!" his partner responded in turn, averting his gaze as a crimson flush spread across his cheeks, secretly loving the way Yuu's hands had begun to speed up, his movements becoming jerky, almost as if he were wanting to thoroughly pull something out of him...roughly, impatiently. "After what you did—do you honestly...think I would let my guard down again?"

Yuuichirou just chuckled in response, leaning forward to swirl his tongue around the head, smiling when he felt a flutter pass through his partner's body. "No...I guess that would be too much to ask of you, now wouldn't it?"

Mikaela utterly loathed his tone of voice, irritated that Yuu had the gall to rub it in his face that he had turned the tables around. He wanted so desperately to remain with that train of thought, to cling to it with his entire mind and body, wanting his own irritation to keep him above the pleasure he felt, but as he'd known for the last couple of minutes, it was a stupid, fruitless endeavor to keep resisting.

Yuuichirou's hand felt so good...so so so good...and he could feel his orgasm coming again, reducing him into a jittery, trembling mess.

By this time, Yuu's hand was fully slick with pre-cum, his fingers easily gliding up and down the velvety flesh of his partner, his face having taken on a lewd expression as he watched Mikaela's mouth heave over and over, his eyes lost within his own, his mind comprehending nothing else but the pleasure Yuuichirou gave him, a sordid sort of animal that's been reduced to nothing more but what his senses conveyed to him.

And Yuuichirou thought to himself how utterly alluring and exquisite Mikaela looked, the pale skin of his body enticing in the way the sheen of perspiration made him even more desirable.

Mika's second orgasm wracked throughout his entire form as he came into Yuu's hands, riding the waves of euphoria while he desperately held onto the last dregs of his unconsciousness. He closed his eyes, his chest heaving while his legs felt limp, spent with exhaustion.

Afterwards, as he tried to steady the frantic beating of his heart however, there was no more time to react, not when the other man abruptly pulled the blond's hips forward, plunging into him with what could only be described as unmitigated impulsiveness. Mika jumped in shock, his eyes seeing nothing but flashes of silver and white, before he regained some level of coherent thought, his newly released hands shooting forward to clutch at Yuu's arms, his nails clawing into his skin, enough to draw a slight amount of blood.

"You—you bastard...!" he panted out loud, his hands gripping even more tightly onto the other man's arms. "You went too fast—I can't believe you, you son of a—!"

As Mika had predicted, his best friend had been in no mood to wait, wanting nothing else but to fuck him until they were both a puddle of goo on the ground. There was no foreplay, no warning he gave to him, nothing at all that could have made the situation resemble a touching moment between them, at the very least, and that made the blond's temper spike even more, grinding his teeth until his gums became numb.

He couldn't help but feel as if he were being treated like some common whore off the streets, although there had almost been no pain; Yuuichirou had slid into him with relative ease, but it did absolutely nothing to abate his anger.

Focusing his mind to overcome the effects of the medicine, he shook his hand away from Yuu's grip, and in a split second, landed a blow against his partner's cheek with the back of his hand, his voice hoarse with rage. "Go slowly, you idiot! You cheated, but at least have the decency to treat me properly...!"

At the sudden blow, flashes of white momentarily blared in Yuu's eyes, his mouth open wide with shock as the blond's hit finally registered in his mind. A shard of emerald green made its way into his irises, barely noticeable, but enough to have brought him back momentarily to his senses. He looked down at his partner who still stared at him with a livid expression, and unconsciously, he licked his lips, lowering his eyes in deference.  

As if to apologize to him wordlessly, Yuuichirou simply moved to cover Mika's lips his own, gently invading his mouth to tangle their tongues together. He tilted his head so he could assault the blond's mouth with wet kisses at a different angle, before letting out a strained groan.

Per his partner's wishes, he did slow down, fully sheathing himself within Mika's warmth until the latter was used to his size, allowing them the courtesy to become accustomed to one another. Yuu licked his lips again, pulling away from the kiss to place his lips on the blond's forehead, loving the unique scent that belonged only to his best friend.

Trying to gain some semblance of leverage, Mika's hand gripped the hard surface, his nails caked with light trails of dried blood, scratching away at the surface of the floor. The medicine's effects still rampaged within his body, and the amount of strength it took to keep himself sitting up for as much as possible was burdensome, his back straining to keep him upright.

Yuuichirou lifted his head, sliding his lips past the latter's cheek so that they landed on the soft shell of his friend's ears, his voice obscene as he huffed with ecstasy, a strange slur of dirty talk escaping him. "You're so tight, Mika...! I didn't think it's be so—ahhh...it feels so incredible, God you're amazing...!"

The blond blinked at his last comment, a blush blooming from his cheeks while an odd expression passed through his face.

It was an unusual kind of compliment that Mikaela never expected to hear out of his friend at this state, truthfully speaking. While there wasn't so much affection in his own words on the surface, the heartfelt conviction Yuu felt was almost palpable to the tongue; he'd never seen his Yuu-chan so honest like this, and if he weren't so preoccupied with what his best friend was doing to him, he could even say that perhaps—just perhaps—this was worth it.

His chest felt strangely warm at being the target of Yuu's candor, the anger inside of him gradually receding, replaced by a desire he couldn't even begin to understand.

But before he could think anymore on the matter, his mind gave way and instead, began to focus on the simplistic motion of Yuu moving in and out of him at a maddening pace, wanting to fill him up with his seed. The way Yuuichirou's cock massaged his inner walls felt so...incredible. There was really no other word to describe something that was indescribable to begin with, and for the life of him, it was the best he could come up with. Yuu moved as if his life depended on it, wanting to get further and further inside of Mikaela each time, his very soul reaching into the blond's core, damn it all if it was the last thing he'd ever do.

And despite himself, the blond let out a crude smile, licking his lips. He felt his muscles loosening, much as he hated to admit it, his grip on the ground eventually losing traction. He wrapped his arms around his partner's back, pulling him in closer so that there was no space between their skin, panting in his ears, showing him some measure of submission, just as he'd wanted from the beginning.

The very sight made the monster inside of Yuuichirou howl in gratified conquest, and he hurried his pace, lifting Mika's leg so that it hiked up higher on his waist, caressing the inside of his thigh while he moaned out loud in wantonness.

But by no means, they've been at it for a good two hours and naturally, fatigue began to set in, in spite of the aphrodisiac's design to give the injections shocks of adrenaline rush. Just a few more thrusts was all it took, and Yuu's cum shot forward inside of Mika, his orgasm wracking throughout his entire form like an ocean's massive tidal waves.

The latter moaned at the sensation of being filled to the brim, the grip of his legs around Yuuichirou tightening, no longer having the energy to keep himself sitting up.

His back collapsed flat towards the ground, taking his best friend with him as he clutched at his neck for support. They were both a writhing mess on the ground, their bodies quivering and shaking from the after effects of what they'd just done.

They laid there for a long time, trying to get their heartbeats back in control.

After a good fifteen minutes had passed, a strained grumble escaped from Yuuichirou's throat, and eventually, he lifted his head up to peer into Mika's eyes, the clashing flecks of blue and crimson in the latter's irises startling him for a moment. Similarly, he could see that his own eyes had gradually begun to return to its normal color, the strange mix of green and red humorously reminding him of watermelons.

It is a moment of unexpected reprieve, but all the same, welcome. From the corner of his eye, Yuuichirou could see the black, hollow sensor that hung on the wall, keeping track of their every move. He paid it no mind however, turning his attention back to the blond.

"Are you all right...?" he asked quietly, lifting a hand to cradle Mika's cheek, his thumb drawing circles beneath his partner's eye.

Mikaela nodded, letting out a loud sigh of relief as his legs fell to the side, his toes curling while he felt Yuuichirou slowly pull out of him. He groaned at the sudden loss of contact, lifting a hand to wipe away the trail of saliva that had dribbled down his chin. The effects of the medicine was fast fading away, and he slowly regained full control of his muscles, choosing that moment to sit up carefully, lest blood rushes to his head too fast, and then he would just end up giving himself a dizzy spell.

He turned his gaze towards the direction of the last syringe, biting his lip in contemplation. Before him, Yuu turned to look in the same direction, his eyes narrowing.

"How do we decide, Yuu-chan...?"

"I don't have the slightest idea."

They knew, of course, that they weren't done just yet (it was more than obvious, in fact). A rut can last for as long as a week with periodical breaks in between, but who knew how long before they would lose themselves again; this momentary break can last hours, or it can last only minutes.

Human biology was such a fucking mess.

Regardless, they both knew that had to come up with something fast. Neither one of them wanted to give the syringe to the other person, not while they're both in this state of mind, but the basic instinct to fight for it was nonetheless present—just bubbling in the surface, ready at any moment to pounce.

Mikaela tried to wrack his brain to come up with some sort of idea. They had to come with something...anything...!

"How about we just don't use it?"

Mikaela's eyes snapped open, turning back to look at Yuuichirou with a strange expression, blinking at him. "What are you saying, of course we need them...!"

"Do we?"

The blond's shoulder jumped, staring down at the floor in contemplation. "There's no other way for us to function without them, Yuu-chan. What you're saying is—is impossible—"

"I don't want to give you the injection Mika...!" Yuuichirou continued, his head bowed down shamefully in admission, his hand moving unconsciously to lay it on top of the blond's fingers, a gesture of trust. His face was red, his mouth panting obscenely as he took in his best friend's naked skin, his pink nipples, how exquisite and delectable he looked, all his for the taking.

"I won't let myself give into you. I'm sorry, I...even if—I feel...so much for you, I...won't."

Mikaela's heart was startled at the sudden confession, pulling his hand away impulsively in response. His eyes, more red than blue, he stared at him in defiance, licking his lips at the seemingly submissive pose Yuuichirou showed before him, his entire form hunched over, his cock hardening at the indecent thoughts that no doubt crossed his mind at that very moment.

But the blond knew he had to make his feelings clear on the matter as well, he had to be frank with his best friend. "I'm not giving it up, Yuu-chan...! You can't make me...!"

There is desperation in their voices...uncertainty, fear.

"Then what are we supposed to do?!"

"I don't know...I don't know! But I won't—I can't go to you willingly like that either, Yuu-chan...! No matter how much you may want me to as well, I won't do it...!"

"...and neither will I."

Mikaela's eyes widened in understanding, a thousand blocks of perceived awareness surrounding and closing in on him as he realized that at last, they have reached the unavoidable impasse. "...and neither will you...right..."

At the sound of the blond's hollow response, Yuuichirou couldn't help but let out a loud chuckle, his eyes welling up with tears as the monster in his chest began to awaken once more, tearing at his insides to be released again. But for at least a couple more seconds, he knew he could hold it back...hopefully, anyway. "So...you see my point, right? We don't really have a choice here."

"No," Mikaela responded with resignation in his voice, closing his eyes, accepting the hard, difficult truth. "I don't suppose we do."

They were quiet for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts, until one of them finally broke the silence.

"Heh heh...try not to kill me, okay?" Yuu teased his best friend out of nowhere, just a little bit, a playful tone coating his voice. And when he lifted his eyes again towards his best friend, his irises the color of rich blood once more, he gave the blond a bright smile, the tips of his ears a bright crimson. "When all this is over...I'll have you properly confessing to me."

"The same goes for you," the other man replied with a tender smile, the scarlet color of arousal also overtaking his eyes, an invasion that consisted of madness. "I want you to be honest with me later on."

At the very least, now they knew approximately how long each "break" was. Just their fucking luck that it hardly lasted enough time for them to come up with something else that could have been a little easier to take.

Using the last ounce of their rationality, Yuuichirou quickly stood up and moved to smash the sensors with his fist. From the other end of the room, Mika ran to grab the last injection, throwing it against the wall, the glass container shattering into a thousand pieces, the bright blue aphrodisiac running along the surface.

Clutching their chests, panting in desire for one another as their blood was once again consumed by the inner fire that they had no choice but to quell, the sound of sirens blaring in their ears, they lunged towards each other again and dove straight into the unknown outcome of their decision.

If you made it all the way here, thanks so much for reading!

[problematic-truth]

My abuser is famous on the internet.

My abuser is famous on the internet.

abuserəˈbjuːzə/

noun

1.a person who treats another person or animal with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly.

I feel as though I should start this off with an understanding of the dictionary definition of abuser. There are claims being thrown around by people who most definitely do not know this person as well as I that there's no way possible this person is an "abuser" my lived experience begs to differ.

I will hear on out refer to Anna as Cassidy as she's not Anna anymore.

Cassidy & I were best friends immediately from the start for the past 10+ years.

If you are one of her few long term friends even though I post this anonymously you will know exactly who I am.

Eventually I moved to England and Cassidy followed trying to rid herself of her heroin addiction and for the both of us to start fresh.

We moved into a small one bedroom apartment and soon after our friendship blossomed into a "intimate" relationship.

About 4 months into living together a mutual friend of ours had a birthday which we went to and partied extremely hard. I was incredibly drunk & on our walk to the bus two males approached us and started harassing us.

Upon getting to our bus stop they continued to follow us and became extremely touchy and eventually boarded the bus with us.

Like I said, I was very drunk but this was during the time that Cassidy would carry around a hand held video camera so I was able to later watch a few clips from that night. On the bus I started to feel extremely uncomfortable with the situation, to the point where when our stop came I jumped off first thing.. But yet there was no Cassidy behind me.

As I stumbled back to the apartment I realized she was the only one with a key, so I knocked on our neighbors door to sit and wait for her return.

Upon hearing her enter the building I realized she had these same two men with her, I quickly followed them into our apartment where she explained they were just gonna come smoke some weed with her. I said goodnight and got into bed where I proceeded to message my boyfriend on my mac book and vomit all over myself.

I passed out after that only to awake and see Cassidy in our room standing over the bed, The next time I awoke I felt a dick between my legs and my arms being held behind my back. I was being raped. With my body and hair covered in my vomit and the room spinning I was defenseless. I was also on my period which made it incredibly easy to penetrate me. I shut my eyes and waited for them to finish. I couldn't believe it nor could I see exactly which one of the men it was who had just violated me. I heard the water running in the bathroom and as I reached for my laptop I felt nothing. I soon realized not only had I been raped but I had been robbed as well. I got out of bed and stumbled to the living room looking for Cassidy, whom it turns out was asleep on the couch. Meanwhile one of the men was sitting on the other couch with his head in his hands saying nothing.

I shook Cassidy up and immediately said "I've just been raped and robbed."

Her response was like she couldn't care less. She went back to sleep.

I threw her phone at the guy on the couch and demanded he call his friend and get him to bring me back my shit. I couldn't believe it, not only had I been violated but my own best friend who had been sexually assaulted in the past herself couldn't give a fuck. I ran down the hallway and banged on the neighbor's door who I had been at previously and she took me in. I could hear the guy leave my apartment. My neighbor wrapped me up in a robe and put me in her bed while she called the police. Once they showed up it was probably another hour or so before Cassidy actually showed up asking what had happened.

The next couple of days were a blur, a combination of police interviews and hospital rape kits. HIV vaccines and video statements. All while Cassidy held a cold demeanor.

She was upset as the guy on the couch had stolen her phone.

She was upset because I had to keep asking her to use her laptop as it was the only way I could contact my family and friends back at home.

I felt alone, I called suicide hotlines just to talk to anyone,

The few friends I had made during the short time I had lived here heard all about it and barely knew me.

The fact was that I had been best friends with this person for years and

she could barely talk to me about it.

She told me to read the book the lovely bones which is about a young girl who gets raped and murdered.

My mom flew out. I wanted to kill myself.

Two months later during an argument about money,

She told me to ask my grandparents (who were the only relatively wealthy people in my family) for money. My rebuttal was that I couldn't just ask for money like that and I hadn't won a bunch of money in a court settlement like she had.

She said "well I was raped"

I said "I was too, and you didn't give a fuck." She moved out after that day.

The police officer who eventually came to explain the rape kit couldn't tell them much as my period blood had lubricated me and I showed no sign of forced entry.

She told me I was better off not being friends with Cassidy.

I moved on, moved out and made new friends. Cassidy & I didn't talk for a couple months. We eventually left things amicable.

Cut to three/four years later Cassidy explains she wants to move back to the UK.

My wounds having healed somewhat from the last experience with her I invited her back to live with me for as long as she needed.

I had cultivated a very close girlfriend group and introduced her to everyone upon her arrival. It was nice to have her back and she explained how she had been escorting while back at home.

The next few months / years were great. It was awesome having my friend back and she got along fantastic with everyone although a few people commented that she typically talked about herself everyone seemed to really like her.

Eventually I left my Job of 4 years and needed a change of scenery,

Cassidy and another girlfriend of mine had decided to move in together..

everything seemed great even though I had chose to move on and out by relocating to the south of England

We had a group chat where we all kept in touch.I had left a bunch of suitcases of clothes and house items at her flat so I could eventually come back and get them.

It was my birthday and Cassidy came to visit. I was extremely lonely in my new place so I had started seeing someone and when Cassidy came to visit I was unattentive which she later explained hurt her feelings. I completely understood and apologized as who wants a friend to put forward effort and then feel burned about it! I certainly didnt.

Birthday beef having been squashed

I came back to Cassidys to retrieve my stuff.

She had sent me a picture of her wearing a dress that one of my friends had gifted me and explained she was going through my stuff to "help clean it"

We drove back to get some of the suitcases and my cat and Cassidy was extremely rude and obnoxious the whole time I was there. It hurt my heart and I could feel my friend slipping away again.

Eventually I met my now husband and couldn't be more excited.

My conversation in the group chat at the time was mainly gushing about how I couldn't believe I snagged the man of my dreams and most of my friends were extremely happy for me.

This leads up to one of the final times I saw Cassidy as we attended a gig in London. She had seemed distant and even more so self absorbed talking about herself to the point where I had mentioned it to my other friends at the gig.

They agreed.Later I invited my husband and his friend to the flat we were staying at as he wanted to smoke everyone out and have a lil party with us.

Everyone including Cassidy seemed to be enjoying themselves hitting dabs and drinking til the early morning.

The next day while looking for the wifi code I found a couple pairs of my lingerie in the drawers. I didn't mention it but we all went out and everything seemed ok.

After that day it was definitely obvious that Cassidy and my friend living with her were distancing themselves. I couldn't understand why until Cassidy had flown back to America and sent me another picture of her in some clothes of mine with the caption "look what I found in my suitcase" (um what?)

This is where I finally questioned her, How did this stuff just end up in your suitcase?! Why were you being so distant?!

She went off on me of course..she has a pattern of saying the same things and acting as a victim any time someone calls her out.

We called our friendship off for the second time and again I felt a weight lifted.

But she wasn't done with her manipulation.. living in the same area as the friends I had introduced her to she used them as fodder.

Taking girl gang pictures with captions like "so glad we have a positive girl vibe in our group finally" "love my girls" basically bullying me and using my own best friends. A couple of them caught this.. and realized what she was trying to do.

I lost the friend who lived with her due to her manipulating her and giving her a "choose one" ultimatum. The other girls soon realized and kept their distance from her. Cassidy would post things online aimed at me saying I should kill myself becauseI called my boyfriend my husband.. and then comment on other people's instagrams being overly friendly in my direction (she loves to manipulate)

When I contacted two of the girls about this whole fiasco that's going on now..

they both knew who I was because Cassidy still can't seem to keep my name out of her mouth and stop talking shit on me, Which for the life of me I can't understand as she tells my other friend's she would like to get in touch with me. So which one is it Cassidy?

As for the No AA comments this is totally true, She has said in the past to me she doesn't see Asian or Black men due to the fact that they can be violent and hard to handle clients.

As for her apologyShe doesn't give a fuck about any of it only the fact that it could potentially hurt her instagram follower count.

You may call me an opportunist for coming out with this all now but the fact is I didn't have a voice before.

I had mentioned to someone about what I had dealt with and felt almost as though I was unbelieved because of her "notoriety" that It just sounded like I was talking shit and was jealous of how many followers she had.

But the fact of the matter is I was bullied, I was abused, I was ignored, and most importantly I was put in an extremely dangerous situation because of this girl's ignorance.

There are other incidents I had with this person that I just don't have the time to explain either.. but this is a summary.

And I hope the words I say here are tales of caution to anyone else who wants to be friends with her. I hope you don't have to learn the hard way like I did.

*** shared by cassidys ex girlfriend****

[athousandmilez-blog]

Don’t Need to Rush → 013

Tagging: Miles Sterling & Nick Vaughn.

Timeframe: Saturday, November 25, 2017.

Location: Miles’ mother’s house.

General Notes: Miles is back at his mother’s house after being released from the hospital, and Nick comes to bring Scout back to him. Miles doesn’t remember much from Nick’s visit to the hospital on Thanksgiving.

Miles let his head snap to the door when he heard a familiar whine on the other side of it. That was his Scout. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face as Nick knocked, and finally the door opened, and Miles had a happy golden retriever bouncing over to his bedside with her tail wagging so hard it moved her whole body. Miles immediately bent down to embrace her, running his hands through her hair as she wiggles excitedly in his grasp. The relief he felt was indescribable. He was just so glad to have her back, as he had rarely been away from her since he’d gotten her, and after this whirlwind of a week he didn’t want to be away from her ever again. “Thank you,” he said into Scout’s fur, though it was directed at Nick. “Thank you for getting her.” Nick was one of the few people in the world he would always trust to have her, along with Quinn and Murphy. He finally sat up straight again, patting the spot beside him on his bed to invite Scout to jump up, which she did. “Okay,” he answered truthfully with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve definitely been better. But I can move and stuff now, so that’s cool.” He scratched behind Scout’s ear absentmindedly. “Just have to take it easy and stuff. And they warned us about some possible changes. Dizzy spells, having a hard time remembering things. Shit like that. But that comes with the head injury.” He sent a pointed glance at the wall beside his bedside table and the floor beside it. There were no visible marks, but he knew his head had been hit in those places. “I don’t seem to be having a hard time remembering much, though.”

Nick smiled at the sight of Scout and Miles finally reuniting. After all that had happened, Nick wasn’t surprised that they were this happy to see each other. Anyone who knew Miles knew how much he loved Scout, and clearly that love was mutual. He’d never had that sort of bond with an animal before, but it was obviously special. The thought of Greg having Scout for any longer than he did was sickening now, but Nick was just glad that he got to her before anything bad happened. “It was no problem. She’s always good. Could tell she missed you, though.” He gently closed the door behind him and walked further into the room as Scout settled herself beside Miles. “Good — well, not good about the dizzy spells. But I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He followed Miles gaze without thinking about it, not thinking much of it. He glanced back at him, noting that he definitely looked better than he did the last time he saw him. “Good... uh. I was worried after the last time I saw you. You were pretty upset.” He broke off, not sure if he should bring up those memories to Miles and remind him of why he’d been upset. “But you look better. I’m glad you’re okay.” His voice was honest, and he swallowed to stop himself from rambling on too much. “How long before your... head injury is supposed to subside?”

Miles nodded. He knew Scout was a good dog, but he liked to take credit for at least part of it for training her over the years. He nudged her aside so he could move further up the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “You can sit. I mean, if you were planning on sticking around.” Miles gestured toward the end of his bed. “Plenty of room on my Pokémon comforter.” He grinned. When Nick mentioned seeing him last, the smile faded a bit. Miles wasn’t sure exactly when that was. He knew that Nick had come to see him and that he’d asked him to get Scout, but specifics were all a blur. He was told this would likely happen, but it was difficult to come to terms with. “Right. Yeah, I’m better. I’ll be fine.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t know. I have a follow up in two weeks, so hopefully everything just checks out by then and I won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Hopefully he wouldn’t have to worry about any of it anymore. But that was going to be a while. He was still petting Scout and he focused back on Nick. “Anyway, what about you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

Nick laughed at the mention of the Pokemon comforter, and slowly nodded his head. “I could stay for awhile, if that’s okay.” Truth was, he wanted to be there with him, but he also didn’t want to get in the way of him resting or something. Figuring Miles would tell him if he needed to though, Nick made his way forward and gently sat down on the foot of Miles’ bed. “That’s it? Wow. That’s good, right?” He turned his body a bit to face him, immensely relieved and happy that he was doing so well. If only Miles’ next question didn’t throw him off. “Um... well. After I saw you, you mean?” Miles knew he was there for the first half of the day. “I went to my Mom’s for a little while. She sends her love.” He smiled slightly. His adoptive Mother didn’t show her affection outright. Not like Miles’ Mom. But after hearing the news about Miles it was clear that she was concerned. “How were thing after I left that day?”

Miles nodded again. “When have I ever kicked you out?” Aside from the times they were fighting. But that totally didn’t count. Miles shrugged at that. “I mean, I guess. That’s only if everything is fine.” Two weeks was plenty of time to have something go wrong. Nick’s reply had Miles staring blankly at him. Shit. Right. Nick was at the hospital on Thanksgiving. Miles blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah. After...after that. That’s what I meant.” He figured they could just move past it, and his heart swelled slightly at the mention of Nick’s mother. “I’m genuinely honored. I miss her.” It has been a while. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it more, though, because Nick brought up Thanksgiving again. Miles wasn’t sure if he could fake it — or if he even should. He might have been better off just being honest. “Ah...to be honest with you, I don’t know if I remember much from that day,” he finally settled on. “All the hospital days kind of blend together. It wears a blur of a few days, you know? I had a lot on my mind and—and the concussion doesn’t help.” He frowned. “I’m sure I just slept, though. All I really did was sleep.”

Nick shrugged. “I dunno, figured you might want to relax and spend some time with Scout.” Nick nodded at the next bit of information. “Well... you’ll just have to rest and stuff then. And do what the doctor says. So nothing goes wrong.” He nodded as he spoke, and his heart constricted at the thought of something else going on. But he hoped that was just him being paranoid and that nothing would happen. “She misses you, too.” He could tell. “You should come visit... when you’re feeling better, I mean.” That conversation was quick to end, though. Miles’ hesitation was obvious, and now he finally understood why. He didn’t remember. “You don’t remember?” He tried not to sound too upset at that moment. It wasn’t Miles’ fault. It was just fucking scary — the fact that he didn’t seem to remember he was there. “What do... what do you remember, Miles?”

Miles glanced down at Scout. “I am relaxing and spending time with Scout,” he pointed out. “But I know that. I’m not planning on doing anything crazy.” He could see in the way Nick looked at him how his mood shifted just slightly, and Miles almost wanted to just slide under the covers and hide. He felt bad that he didn’t know. Nick didn’t sound upset, just surprised, and it made Miles want to tell him that he remembered, even though he didn’t. “I...I don’t know,” he replied. But then he backtracked, going through what he knew he could recall. “I know you came to visit. I don’t know how long you were there. I remember I was in ridiculous pain but I don’t know why. And I know I told you to get Scout at some point because you told me you had her after you did. And I think I told you about— or did I?” He couldn’t remember if they’d talked about Greg. “Greg. We might have talked about Greg.” He met Nick’s gaze, wishing he could offer him more. “I don’t know.”

Nick had meant without him being there, but he wasn’t going to argue with him. He was just glad to be there, even if the conversation quickly went sour. He nodded as Miles said he wasn’t going to do anything crazy, and Nick knew that. It was the things out of Miles’ control that scared Nick. Like the not remembering. Nick swallowed thickly and tried to find the right words, hoping Miles didn’t think he was hurt or mad. He was just disappointed; worried. What else would Miles forget? “I came to see you and we... talked for awhile. Then you asked me we’re Scout was.” He held Miles’ gaze as he spoke. “And I told you she was with Greg.” He hated that name now. “You told me to go get her, and you got upset. The nurses had to come in to calm you down. It wasn’t until I met up with him that I realized why you were upset.” He was going to be honest with him, as honest as he could. He wasn’t sure if he should tell him the other stuff or not. Would he think that was important, in the grand scheme of things? “And now I’m here.”

Miles listened to him explain everything that happened, but he couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right. Like there was something he was forgetting that he really should have remembered. It reminded him of how he got so angry at Nick a mere few weeks before because he couldn’t remember, even when it wasn’t his fault. And now he was going through the same thing. His jaw clenched at the mention of Greg. “Did he say anything to you?” Thinking of Greg around the people he loved now made his blood boil, even more so than before. But he calmed down when he remembered that Nick and Scout were both here, Quinn was going to divorce the douche, and everything was fine. Miles bit down on the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry that I don’t remember much.” He paused. “I remember that I was glad you were there. I remember that I missed you.” It was true. And even if he hadn’t remembered, he was sure he’d have felt all that anyway. “And that I broke up with Lily because I wasn’t being fair to her.” He remembered situations before the incident, like why he’d gotten so mad at Nick when he forgot that he’d told him he loved him. Miles remembered the thoughts in his head that night. But he just couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he and Nick had said just a few days ago. “Is that all?”

Nick could see the moment Miles tensed about Greg, and Nick began shaking his head before he answered. “No. Not really. He didn’t do anything to me, and Scout was fine. She was just uncomfortable. I just... I don’t know. The way he was looking at me, and how he was talking. It wasn’t normal.” Greg, clearly, wasn’t normal. “We were in a public place, though. And that was the last we saw of him.” The ‘we’ being him and Scout, but he supposed that applied to everyone else as well. “It’s okay.” He said quietly. “It’s not your fault.” It still hurt nonetheless. After everything, it hurt that he didn’t remember. A feeling Nick recognized as hope began to well up in his chest as Miles said he missed him. Because God knows he’d missed him, too. “I didn’t know you broke up with her.” Was all he could think to say, his voice still quiet as he tried to decipher why he was telling him that. When Miles asked him if that was all that had happened, Nick was faced with two options: ghost over the truth for the sake of not wanting to overwhelm him, or tell him the truth. And Nick was so used to not saying the whole truth that it was second nature to him now, but he didn’t want to do that anymore. He didn’t want to have to pretend anymore, not with Miles. “No.” He shook his head and raised his eyes to meet Miles’ once more. He pulled in a shaky breath. “I told you that I loved you.” He finally admitted. “You said you loved me, too.”

Miles could do without ever seeing or hearing about Greg ever again for as long as he lived. But he knew that wasn’t going to be an option right away. “He’s...” Miles paused. He didn’t think now was the right time to discuss why Greg had done what he did, other than just being a psycho. “The worst. He’s the worst.” And he’d leave it at that. For now. They could talked about it another time. Right now he was more focused on the matter of what had gone on between them that Miles could barely remember. Nick’s words sent a wave of realization washing over him. There it was. That made sense. That was what seemed so off. Miles was almost relieved to hear that that was all it was. Though he had to admit a part of him was certainly disappointed he couldn’t remember hearing Nick say it. “I do,” he said without a second thought. “I-I don’t remember saying it there but I do. I do love you.” He hoped it didn’t matter when it was said, because he meant it every time. And he’d say it a thousand more times if he had to. “I’m really sorry that I can’t remember. I know you know I didn’t do it on purpose but I feel bad that I...I got so mad at you for the same thing.” He looked down at his lap. He felt like he should do something, like touch him or something, but he didn’t want to cross a line and he wasn’t even entirely sure what Nick was thinking.

Nick nodded in full hearted agreement. Greg was the worst, but he didn’t want to think about what he did right now and get angry all over again. Telling Miles what had really happened and what they had said was terrifying, because he wasn’t sure if that really meant anything or not, if Miles would even be open to hearing it when he was a alert now. As he said he loved him again, though, Nick knew he was. “It’s not your fault.” He said again, more firmly this time as he moved to face him completely. After a brief moment of hesitation, he reached out to gently rest his hand on his leg. “It’s not the same thing.” He shook his head before speaking again. “You’re saying it again now. You’re not trying to hide it. I did.” He glanced down for a moment before looking back up at him. “I was too scared to tell you otherwise. But I do. Love you, I mean. Like, a lot.” He let out a laugh even if it wasn’t particularly funny. “After the thing with Greg... I almost lost you, you know? And I don’t want to have to do that.”

Miles knew Nick didn’t blame him, but it still bothered him a bit that he had acted that way. He supposed be would just have to let it go, though, since all was forgiven. “You know I’m not gonna judge you,” Miles reminded him. He glanced down at Nick’s hand on his leg. “You don’t have to go tell the whole world but you don’t have to worry about telling me.” He paused. “And I promise I’m not going to try and force you to be more open about things. That’s not fair to you.” He felt bad about some things he had said, in hindsight. He just hoped once again that they would be okay, now that he understood Nick had to go at his own pace if anything was going to work out. Nick started talking about almost losing him, and Miles didn’t like that talk. He liked that Nick was being honest, though. That was something he’d probably never get sick of. And hearing it warmed his heart, reminddd him why he felt this way about Nick, and he didn’t want to wait anymore. He placed his hand on top of Nick’s and leaned forward to kiss him. All he could think about the entire time he did was that it was the first time they would kiss and not ignore each other for it for the following month or so. And that thought alone had him grinning when he pulled away. “Good thing you didn’t, then.”

Nick felt exposed, having to lay everything out there for him. On one hand, it felt good to be honest with him. But on the other, it felt strange to admit it all again. “I know you’re not.” He nodded slowly, because Nick knew that for a fact. “It was never you I was worried about.” It was everyone else, but that didn’t matter right now.  “But I can’t guarantee I’ll be open. Not anytime soon. And that’s not fair to you, either.” He warned, struggling to be honest still. But his words stopped when Miles places his hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. He wasn’t entirely expecting it, but it was welcomed. It had been too long since they’d last gotten to do this, and he felt the familiar feeling of warmth spread throughout his chest at the gesture. He leaned in, careful not to accidentally bump into him. As they pulled apart, he couldn’t help but supply a grin of his own. “Yeah. Good thing. Who else would I have to watch Cupcake Wars with?”

Miles shook his head. “You don’t have to be,” he said quietly. He didn’t expect him to go parading their...whatever it was right now. That wasn’t the point, anyway. “But you told me how you feel and that’s a start. You’re miles ahead of where you were a month ago.” Miles didn’t expect him to suddenly feel like coming out, but the least he could do was hopefully help him get there. “What’s fair to me is just that...you can tell me what you’re thinking, y’know?” Even if that meant telling Miles to back off. He knew he could come on a little too strong sometimes. Case in point, when he couldn’t help but kiss him — but Nick’s reciprocation was a pleasant reminder that this was all real, albeit a little rough around the edges right now. “Right. That’s what I’m good for.” He sighed. “But really. It could have been worse. It was pretty bad, yeah, but I’m here now, so.” He shrugged. “It’s all good in the hood.”

Nick sighed and nodded slowly as he listened to him speak. “I just didn’t want things to get bad between us. Because I’m not... open. That’s hard for me. The last thing you need is to have to put up with that. Trust me. Especially right now. You’ve got other crap to worry about.” Still, he turned his hand palm side up so he could entangle his fingers with Miles’. “But I want to be more honest. With you.” He admitted. He wasn’t sure where this newfound honesty would lead them, or if it would be any better than what they’ve been doing. But it’s not like they had anything to lose. After the realization that Miles’ could not be here right now — all of the lies felt stupid. Unimportant. “Yeah, it could have been. But it wasn’t. You’re still here.” His grin faded as the words sunk in, despite Miles’ good in the hood comment. “Do you...” He paused, not sure if should ask or not. But he had to know for sure Greg wasn’t coming back. “Do you know where he is?” He spoke quietly. “Have you pressed charges yet?”

Miles almost wanted to roll his eyes, but he held back. If putting up with Nick were a problem for him, he’d have been done with it one of the other hundred times they’d decided to ignore each other. “You don’t have to look out for me like that, you know. I know what I have going on but I also know what I want.” He looked down at their hands and then back up again. “I just may not be entirely clear what it is you want.” His voice took on a lighthearted tone, but it was a serious statement nonetheless. But maybe it just didn’t matter right now. He didn’t know. At the mention of Greg, despite the fact that Nick hadn’t even said his name, Miles frowned. “No and no,” he replied, looking down at his feet. “Even if someone told me where he was I probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow.” It probably didn’t come out as jokingly as he meant it, but he couldn’t help it. He was feeling nervous. “I think my mom wants me to focus on becoming not-concussed before we work on that.”

Nick knew this wasn’t the right time for this conversation. Miles just got out of the hospital, and probably had a thousand other thoughts running through his mind. Still, he owed it to him to be honest. Even if the timing was way off. “What do you want?” Nick asked in turn, part of him already knowing the answer. He paused before he brought himself to reply to that. “I want you to be okay. And I want to be here when you need me.” Like Miles had been there for him. “I want us to stop getting mad at each other and ignoring each other like we don’t care.” Because it turned out he cared a lot. He debated about saying the next part, but he figured he was already this far ahead he might as well. “And I want you to be happy. But I don’t want you to end up for real hating me. But I also don’t want you to get back together with Lily and forget I exist again.” He broke off before he could say something more, and shook his head. The talk of Greg came was his own fault, but he wanted to know there was no chance he’d be back there. “You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned, not particularly finding him very funny, for once. Too soon, he supposed. “I guess that makes sense...” He said slowly, wanting to ask more questions and make sure Greg was for sure going to get some shit for this. But he knew first hand that a lot of questions and a lot of prying wouldn’t help him. If Miles were anything like Nick, which he knew he was, he would hate that. “You should focus on getting better. Before anything. That other stuff can be taken care of later.” Even if Nick wished the guy was already in prison or something. “Do you need me to leave so you can get some rest?”

Miles shook his head, unsure of how he should even phrase it at first. Voicing it was hard, even if he knew. “I just...want you,” he finally settled on, despite how vague it was. “Whatever that means for you. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.” A lot of what Nick was saying was similar to what Miles himself wanted. They’d said some of these things before but it was different now, almost. “I am okay. But...we’re not gonna stop getting mad at each other.” He knew what he meant, but still. Never fighting again wasn’t a promise he could make. “I-I didn’t forget you existed. I thought about you every single day.” He paused, sucking a deep breath with so much force it reminded him of the dull pain in his ribs. “I’m telling you that I don’t need you to tell the world everything that you’re telling me. What’s gonna make me happy is just...being with you. Being around you. And I don’t need to go telling the world that you’re my boyfriend, but—but I just. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “You said it yourself. You never know when you’re gonna lose someone. I don’t want to risk that without ever just trying.” He sighed. Greg wasn’t going to be an easy subject to talk about for a long time, but he figured he’d have to. “Yeah. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll even bother with all that legal shit,” he muttered. “I’d rather just never see his face again.” It may not be the best choice, but he didn’t like thinking about being stuffed in a courtroom with Greg staring him down. “I don’t need to rest but you don’t have to stay if you have somewhere to be.”

Nick wasn’t surprised by his words, not really. He already knew how Miles felt about him, for whatever reason. Still, the words got to him, and hearing it felt good. “I know we’re going to fight.” He finally said. “I know that’s going to happen. I just... you say that you want to... be with me now. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret everything because it wasn’t what you expected.” And there it was — the truth. His throat constricted as he said the words, but he still continued on. “I want you. I think that’s obvious now.” He laughed, but it didn’t come out as casual as he hoped. “And I don’t want to pretend like I don’t.” Not with him, anyway. The conversation soon turned, and Nick was alarmed by his words, but maybe he was just saying that. So he stayed quiet for a moment. “It’s your choice. But maybe you should give it some thought...when you’re feeling better.” He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “No, no. I want to stay. I just didn’t want to stay if you were tired, or something.” He couldn’t read his mind, that much was obvious.

Miles sighed. “Nick…” He didn’t even know where he intended to go with that. There was a lot he wanted to tell him, but he couldn’t quite think of the words to say. He did his best with what he could, though. “I know what this is. Okay? I do.” He tried to make it clear how genuine he was being. “We can do things…however you want to do them. Go slow. I know what I’m getting into,” he said again. “But I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I just like being with you.” They didn’t need to call it anything. He didn’t care. He cared even less about this, though. “Yeah. Maybe.” The entire thing was unappealing. But Nick was probably right. He could think about it another time. “Well, I-I want you to stay. I can nap later."

Nick had been telling himself for however long this thing with Miles had been going on that this wasn’t a good idea. But he couldn’t keep ignoring what was going on, or acting like he didn’t feel the same way Miles did. “We’ll go slow.” He said slowly, as though accentuating his point. But he was agreeing. It was a bad idea, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no. “If you’re sure that’s what you want. I want to try.” And he really did. “Then I’ll stay.” He shrugged a bit, before hesitating briefly. “If you want to nap now, you can... I can still stay.”

Miles nodded. That was good enough for him. More than good, in fact. Because it was a start, and it meant that Nick was serious, even though he was scared, or however else he felt. Miles wasn’t going to push him to talk anymore now. “I’m sure,” he said quietly. At Nick’s suggestion, Miles looked down at the tiny mattress they were sitting on. They were both at least six feet tall, and the mere idea made him smile. But he raised his eyebrows at Nick nonetheless. “You think that’s going to work? At all? No doubt whatsoever?”

Nick nodded, not verbally saying anything because nothing else really needed to be said. Not right now. They’d already talked enough, and he was sure that Miles probably was at least a little tired. He glanced down at the bed as Miles questioned him, and a laugh escaped him before he could help it. “No of course not. That’s why I was going to ask you to sleep on the floor.” He joked, and a teasing grin spread across his face as he did so. “Yes, it’ll work. We might be pressed a little close, though. So I think we’ll only have a problem if that bothers you.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Nick, I’m not a dog.” He glanced at Scout, who of course didn’t even flinch at his words, but he still felt like he’d offended her. “Sorry,” he told her, scratching her head, which alerted her and caused her to lift her head and look at him. Miles snapped his fingers then, and pointed to the floor. “Down.” Scout followed his command, pushing herself up and then hopping off the bed and lying down right next to it. Miles ran his hand over her head once more before beginning to maneuver himself to try and fit two large adult men into a child-sized bed. “Hm, well, I guess you’re lucky I got a sponge bath in the hospital since I couldn’t sit up. It was super hot. Kinda sad you missed it.” He’d obviously bathed since then, but still. He peeled back the comforter and slid underneath it. “I hope my mom doesn’t assume there’s any funny business going on in these Pokémon sheets.”

Nick was a little sad to see Scout jump off the bed, but there was no way all three of them would fit. Not without accidentally stepping on or elbowing someone. “I was just kidding.” He said lightly as he began to kick off his shoes so he didn’t track dirt or whatever else on Miles’ Pokémon bedding. “Wow, lucky you. How are you going to go back to regular showers after getting used to all the hot nurses?” He waited until Miles was settled before scooting up and maneuvering himself next to him, laying on his side so he didn’t crowd him too much. “We’ll just say we’re trying to name all of the Pokémon.” Honestly wouldn’t be the first time. “And got tired. There are a lot of Pokemon. It’s a believable excuse.”

Miles rolled his eyes playfully. “If I thought you were serious we’d have other problems here.” He shrugged, tilting his head as he thought back to it. “The nurses weren’t very hot, actually. Just the whole idea of a sponge bath is incredibly sexy in its own, obviously.” It had definitely made him feel more like an eighty year old. “I’d be bored of that by Ivysaur.” He had been doing pretty much nothing but resting the past week, so he didn’t think he would be particularly tired. But he was actually finding himself wanting to take all these naps. He wasn’t sure if it was the natural response to lying down and no real stimulation, or part of the head injury. He didn’t really care either way. Naps were naps. “Just be careful,” he said quietly, gesturing to his own chest where all the internal bruising was. He had to stay on his back, which was difficult for him to get used to, but it was better than the alternative. He sighed contentedly as he eyes closed, blinding holding his hand out in search of Nick’s. “Thanks for staying.”

Nick smiled softly at that. “You’ve got a point.” The talk of cold hospital sponge baths hardly sounded appealing, but he played along nonetheless. “Oh yeah, totally. I don’t know how you were able to contain yourself. Don’t get any ideas and ask me for one though, I’m not trained for it.” It was another light joke before they were both laying down. Nick didn’t move as Miles shifted to get into a position that was comfortable for him, and he couldn’t help but feel that familiar worth again as Miles motioned to his chest. “I will.” His voice was nearly at a whisper, and his eyes fell on Miles outstretched hand. Finally allowing himself to sink further down into the mattress, he shifted just a bit so he could reach his own hand out. Entangling his fingers with Miles’, Nick looked at him for a moment before closing his own eyes. “Thanks for letting me.”

[pastel-popplio]

Sort of important I guess. LONG explanation incoming. (Tw for animal death, seizures, if that upsets you, you might be better off just skipping this bc I kind of go into detail. Tldr, I need to avoid anxiety/drama on my dash, my personal life is a bit of a wreck, and I had to put a pet down, so I'm mostly taking a break) Hey so idk if anyone's really noticed my blog's been quiet for the last couple days (I might've liked a few things but I've mostly stayed on my new calm blog and there it's just been reblogging pics), but I'm probably gonna be staying off of this app for a few more days for the most part except the odd reblog. I've had a lot going on for months that's been building and building and especially this week I just completely broke down. Things still aren't great and I really can't take the endless drama and hatred and overall bitterness that's covering my dash with all the ta/ylor drama and the ship/fandom wars and all of the political stuff on top of that. I'm just utterly sick of it and I'm only going to hop on when I wanna post the odd thing or look at calmer content. I hope all of my mutuals are doing okay, I've noticed a few of you seem to be having a hard time as well and I sincerely hope things get better for you all. 💗 Most of the stuff going on has been health, finance or family related so I won't be going into any detail on that. The other thing was my cat, China. She's had epilepsy for a few years now (I think 3 or 4, I'm bad at keeping time straight), but it was manageable and she had excellent quality of life and ran and played. She was the smartest cat I've ever known, she could fetch better than our dogs (on command, and she learned herself I never taught her) and knew how to clear frosted windows from the inside with her paws to look through them in winter, and she even liked to hop on my back for piggy back rides sometimes. Unfortunately she's been taking slight turns for the worse over the last few months, and there wasn't much we could do. The seizures grew more frequent and she started developing a tumor, and I think her brain was starting to get damaged because she seemed to forget all of those little tricks she'd taught herself. She still adored me, but she'd lost her feisty spark and started spending most of her time lying around. Once my sister got her puppy that started stressing her out too despite my attempts to keep things in line. I'm not sure why she took a massive downturn all of a sudden (I knew she was getting worse and had started discussing some options with my mother, but it was like a switch had just been flipped one day), but this week things got really bad. I had to try and keep watch on her constantly to make sure she was in a safe area, and she started having multiple seizures a day (something that had only happened a couple times in previous months, and much less severe). A couple days ago she started having them every few hours, and while we were discussing euthanasia in a couple days (we knew it was going to be better for her at this point, but we thought we still had time left to schedule it), she started going into them every 30 minutes. My mom ended up having to drive me to an emergency vet hospital at 3:00 in the morning to put her down because we realized she wasn't going to make it through the night. I've never lost a pet from anything except old age (comfortably, in my own home), or from unfortunate circumstances outside of my control (where I thankfully never actually witnessed it). I was terrified to go, both from the guilt of taking a life that I wasn't sure I could handle (even if it was undeniably her only peace at this point) and that I would have to witness my little girl that I'd raised from a kitten die right in front of me. But I knew I'd regret it even more if I wasn't there in her final moments to help her soul pass on to heaven, so I sat in that car with a box in the seat next to me and bawled my eyes out talking to her the whole way there. I'm not certain she understood any of it because she was really out of it by this stage, but I hope she at least knew I was there with her. I can't talk about those last moments unless I want to bawl my eyes out, but I will say she's with my other cats now and she has a nice grave under a tree in our yard, and I know her soul is much happier now that she can be healthy and safe. She was honestly like a daughter to me, and I think she knew how much I adored her. I honestly haven't really mourned her deeply? That sounds harsh, but I think at this point I had already come to know it was going to have to happen and tried to prepare myself ahead of time for her disappearance (it was more the sudden severity and having to take her that night without preparation that really wrecked me), and now that she's actually passed on I'm just kind of relieved. Her declining health has been an ongoing weight that's kept me stressed and bawling and feeling like a failure for months now, and I'm just so glad she won't be suffering anymore. I'll miss her of course, and I'm sure after a few months it'll really set in that she's gone for good and I'll start crying the second I see her picture. But for now I'm just kind of thankful that I have that one massive source of anxiety and stress off of my shoulders. I knew it was bad but I hadn't realized just HOW badly it had been ripping me apart every day worrying about and praying for her and trying to comfort her until these two days after it's been so quiet. She's in a much better place now. I'll post some pictures I have of her soon once I gather them up, that way I'll have them for the future (i lost a lot when my old phone died though, unfortunately).

[akelyokikagu]

“I missed you” - Prompt 9 for Anon

Anon if you ever read it; that’s the prompt you requested. 

Prompt: “The characters are both invited to a mutual friend’s wedding. Bonus points if they didn’t know they shared this friend.”  Word count: 1840 Pairing: Okita x Kagura - Kamui x Soyo

Kagura combed her short red hair. She had to be neat today, even if most of the time she ran here and there looking all but dishevelled. Today was different. It was the awaited marriage of Soyo-chan who was also her best friend and so, she was the bridesmaid and of course it had been an honour for her to accept but at some hours from the event she still looked horrible. Okay, maybe not, but still!

Why was her hair so unruly? Or rather, Kagura sighed, she should’ve taken care of them even after cutting them, and all the meaning left behind1. The mirror flashed her reflection, even if some uncooperative locks stood up, in the number of three to be exact, she was fine. The beige dress she was wearing suited her fine, and her make-up had been done by Anego and was nothing close to the clown’s one she usually did. Then, her hands trembled upon opening the black box containing her jewels. 

There lied a simple necklace but a very precious one inside. Golden chains adorned by shallow heart with a pearl in the middle, it was her favourite even if she didn’t wear it since years. Should I…? Her finger traced the accessory slowly, then closed her eyes. Why was she scared of wearing it? It was a gift to her, and hell, it had been years already. She was twenty-five years old now.

“Are you ready Kagura-chan?” The voice of Soyo echoed in the room. Her friend was simply beautiful, no, stunning came closer. Hair put in a refined bun, lips painted red Soyo could rival with the geishas she’d been hearing about on the anime Kintama. Kagura smiled.

“The question is, are you ready Soyo-chan? It’s your wedding after all. I’m just the maid of honour.”

 “Oh yes I very much am. I’ve been in tow since the morning, dragged to the hair dresser, then make-up artist and afterward, the stylist. It was horrible!” Soyo slouched on the sofa, relishing. She eyed the necklace. “You put it?”

 “It’s pretty.”

 “Of course. You look pretty so please catch the bouquet so I’ll see you married soon!” She joked. “Or are you still so keen towards celibate life?”

 “Damn yes Soyo-chan, I don’t need a man!” Kagura swept the locks falling on her eyes, verifying her appearance before leaning and helping Soyo to get up. “Now let’s go, your husband is waiting. The poor man’s gonna piss in his pants if you are late.”

 “What a way to talk about him. He is your brother.”

 “Yes, yes, now let’s go.” She pushed her friend into the limousine waiting in the street, not before she locked the door. “When Kamui gets anxious he needs to eat food; we need to speed up if you don’t want the cake to be half-eaten already.”

Amidst the huddle of very-fancy-people Kagura could finally reach the buffet table where the giant cake was. The wedding had been uneventful or so to speak, perfectly perfect. Soyo arrived in time and Kamui was devouring HER packs of Sukonbu as if it would help his anxiety to disappear, her stomach growled, he could have eaten anything but her snacks.

Abuto was awkward in his costume, as expected although very relieved for his baby-sitter role to be now ended. (Kagura was sure he’ll end up keeping the future baby that would come, one day or another).

 At least, Kagura thought while tasting the cake, the food here was of high quality. Nothing like the noodles she heated up every day. She admitted that life had been hard. Living alone, paying rent and everything but most of all, it was so lonely if not for the visits of either her family or friends.

 She was currently a doctor and worked full-time at a private office and her boss was fine. To be honest she could take a day or two off but then, she’d be just here, alone in her flat with Sadaharu. So today was supposed to be exciting, Soyo-chan was going to be married! Her brother as her husband thus, even if it was Kamui who took the Tokugawa surname, it still made her best-friend her sister.

 Kagura was supposed to be all smiles and grins.

 “Excuse-me,” a voice woke her up, “Can I ask where’s bride—” She was about to answer before her whole body froze when she saw who was in front of her.

 Him, from all people It had to be him. He was in a black and white smoking, but the gun attached to his sides showed he was on a job. Since when did he go from policeman to bodyguard, anyway?! Or why was he even employed here, at her best-friend’s wedding? Or did Soyo plan this?

 “Soyo-chan is in the back room with Kamui, don’t worry if you’re here as a bodyguard.” Quickly, she turned left and wanted to run away from the man.

 But he caught her hand.

 “Wait.” Okita Sougo compelled her into following him. Both of them didn’t want to mess the wedding, much less for personal affairs. They strode through the flock of people, passed hallways until they were outside.

 He had his hand scratching his neck while she was still as a board, staring at her feet. Awkward. That was the right word, they’ve been awkward ever since they broke up. She wondered what the hell Okita wanted to do with her when they avoided each other as much as they could.

“You…Cut your hair.”

“I followed the tradition, but we’re not here to talk about haircut do we? I mean it. What do you want? Why are you even here? You are supposed to be a cop, yes.”

He was her first serious relationship, and maybe, they could have gotten through marriage and settling down if only…If only they were actually made for each other, however, what was done was done. Kagura didn’t want to see his face because it was painful. He reminded her of all the good times they had, and also how everything collapsed just so quickly, fights after fights.

 “The Tokugawa are a family with enough prestige to be targeted, I was mobilised here. I didn’t know the heiress would marry your brother.” Kagura didn’t understand where he was getting at, even if they had to meet again he could have ignored her for good. “I miss you,” he said in an almost whisper.

 Kagura broke off the grasp he had on her hand. “What the hell, do you mean by that? It’s been nearly two years already and you’ve never once regretted me going away! So now, you just land in my life again and say that you miss me? Don’t pull that on me. If you miss me now, you wouldn’t have been a coward back then.”

 Right, Okita Sougo. They fianced in secret after their meeting at the hospital where she worked as intern, being part of her study and he was the brother of a sick lady she had taken care of. Before and after the death of Hijikata Mitsuba they had a constant contact as she updated him with news and then, shared a certain intimacy that grew on love.  

 She had loved him, yes. A lot. Hell, she had even moved with him and everything would have been perfect if Okita ever proposed. But he never did.

 The relationship was kept, prolonged and when she finally asked him if he was ever interested in her, as in taking her as wife and funding a family, Okita Sougo had said ‘no’. Of course, he had explanations, his sister had died with a now widowed husband. He was scared. Add to that, her father wasn’t exactly fine with him either and had threatened him many times. She understood.

 And she did what was the right in this kind of situation, break up and walk far from his life. It wasn’t like he would ever wait for her even if she was ready to wait for him. Disappointment morphed to anger and then to pure devastation, she felt fooled for ever believing in their future together. For her, she would have waited for him if he didn’t answer with a straight ‘no.’ It could have been ‘Can you wait?’ or a ‘Yes, but not now’, ‘I’m not ready yet’ even. Words that hinted that there would be a ‘one day’.  

 “Yes,” his voice still low he embraced her tightly. “I’m sorry. I lacked of courage. I feared to hurt you further, to disappear and let you alone. I saw me, through Hijikata-san and Aneue. I was an idiot. Because you matter more than my stupid fears and that I didn’t notice I wanted to be with you. Forever.” His voice grew louder, “And that I wanted to try without thinking of any bad future, when there was nothing to fear with you.”

 She felt like tearing up right now, for him to come and so suddenly—

 —Say the words she had always wanted to hear, from him no one else. Months after she became celibate again Kagura had tried to find happiness with someone else, Soyo whom she met shortly after, had set her up a few dates. But somehow the feeling she had with Sougo never surfaced again with any other man.

 In the end, she had given up on having the picture of the ‘normal’ family with a loving husband and kids, and had considered adopting a kid too no matter how the procedure was hard for a single woman. It didn’t fulfill her wish completely but was better than being alone nonetheless. She longed for Okita, and every time it happened she tried to repress those feelings.

 “Why idiot!”

 Why didn’t you tell that me sooner?

 “You’re late,” she started to cry. Okita was warm, he felt familiar with his stupid soapy scent, and his stupid face and his stupid stupid— voice.

 “Hey, if you cry you’ll ruin your make-up and looks like a clown,” he joked but she heard his voice hesitant, waving, and…Was he crying too?

 “They’re waterproof, stupid!” She hit him, before crushing his bones with an almost strangling hug. “I missed you too.”

Soyo grinned at her newly-wed husband, peering behind the door as a bride shouldn’t. Of course, having Okita at the wedding was dangerous but she wasn’t a woman to back down at risks. Or else she wouldn’t have married the now Tokugawa Kamui, former Yakuza.

 And she wanted, more than anything else, for her best-friend to be happy.

 “Soyo, is that my sister?” The redhead asked. “Who’s that guy? Isn’t that her ex?” He felt himself burn in anger, because god knows the time he’d spent with Soyo comforting her sister— even it was how they’ve met. His sister had a knack for making such meetings happen.

 “Kamui you shouldn’t—”

 But the hot-blooded husband was already rushing to the couple brandishing his plate of cake as sole weapon.

1: There’s a sort of ‘tradition’ in Japan in which a female cuts her hair if she broke up with her boyfriend/girlfriend. 

[nilesarchives]

No Need to Rush ― CANON. (current verse)

Miles is back at his mother’s house after being released from the hospital, and Nick comes to bring Scout back to him. Miles doesn’t remember much from Nick’s visit to the hospital.

The very first part is missing for some reason, but Nick just brings Scout to Miles’ room and asks how he’s feeling.

Miles let his head snap to the door when he heard a familiar whine on the other side of it. That was his Scout. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face as Nick knocked, and finally the door opened, and Miles had a happy golden retriever bouncing over to his bedside with her tail wagging so hard it moved her whole body. Miles immediately bent down to embrace her, running his hands through her hair as she wiggled excitedly in his grasp. The relief he felt was indescribable. He was just so glad to have her back, as he had rarely been away from her since he’d gotten her, and after this whirlwind of a week he didn’t want to be away from her ever again. “Thank you,” he said into Scout’s fur, though it was directed at Nick. “Thank you for getting her.” Nick was one of the few people in the world he would always trust to have her, along with Beth and Murphy. He finally sat up straight again, patting the spot beside him on his bed to invite Scout to jump up, which she did. “Okay,” he answered truthfully with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve definitely been better. But I can move and stuff now, so that’s cool.” He scratched behind Scout’s ear absentmindedly. “Just have to take it easy and stuff. And they warned us about some possible changes. Dizzy spells, having a hard time remembering things. Shit like that. But that comes with the head injury.” He sent a pointed glance at the wall beside his bedside table and the floor beside it. There were no visible marks, but he knew his head had been hit in those places. “I don’t seem to be having a hard time remembering much, though.”

Nick smiled at the sight of Scout and Miles finally reuniting. After all that had happened, Nick wasn’t surprised that they were this happy to see each other. Anyone who knew Miles knew how much he loved Scout, and clearly that love was mutual. He’d never had that sort of bond with an animal before, but it was obviously special. The thought of Greg having Scout for any longer than he did was sickening now, but Nick was just glad that he got to her before anything bad happened. “It was no problem. She’s always good. Could tell she missed you, though.” He gently closed the door behind him and walked further into the room as Scout settled herself beside Miles. “Good — well, not good about the dizzy spells. But I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He followed Miles gaze without thinking about it, not thinking much of it. He glanced back at him, noting that he definitely looked better than he did the last time he saw him. “Good… uh. I was worried after the last time I saw you. You were pretty upset.” He broke off, not sure if he should bring up those memories to Miles and remind him of why he’d been upset. “But you look better. I’m glad you’re okay.” His voice was honest, and he swallowed to stop himself from rambling on too much. “How long before your… head injury is supposed to subside?”

Miles nodded. He knew Scout was a good dog, but he liked to take credit for at least part of it for training her over the years. He nudged her aside so he could move further up the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “You can sit. I mean, if you were planning on sticking around.” Miles gestured toward the end of his bed. “Plenty of room on my Pokémon comforter.” He grinned. When Nick mentioned seeing him last, the smile faded a bit. Miles wasn’t sure exactly when that was. He knew that Nick had come to see him and that he’d asked him to get Scout, but specifics were all a blur. He was told this would likely happen, but it was difficult to come to terms with. “Right. Yeah, I’m better. I’ll be fine.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t know. I have a follow up in two weeks, so hopefully everything just checks out by then and I won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Hopefully he wouldn’t have to worry about any of it anymore. But that was going to be a while. He was still petting Scout and he focused back on Nick. “Anyway, what about you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

Nick laughed at the mention of the Pokemon comforter, and slowly nodded his head. “I could stay for awhile, if that’s okay.” Truth was, he wanted to be there with him, but he also didn’t want to get in the way of him resting or something. Figuring Miles would tell him if he needed to though, Nick made his way forward and gently sat down on the foot of Miles’ bed. “That’s it? Wow. That’s good, right?” He turned his body a bit to face him, immensely relieved and happy that he was doing so well. If only Miles’ next question didn’t throw him off. “Um… well. After I saw you, you mean?” Miles knew he was there for the first half of the day. “I went to my Mom’s for a little while. She sends her love.” He smiled slightly. His adoptive Mother didn’t show her affection outright. Not like Miles’ Mom. But after hearing the news about Miles it was clear that she was concerned. “How were thing after I left that day?”

Miles nodded again. “When have I ever kicked you out?” Aside from the times they were fighting. But that totally didn’t count. Miles shrugged at that. “I mean, I guess. That’s only if everything is fine.” Two weeks was plenty of time to have something go wrong. Nick’s reply had Miles staring blankly at him. Shit. Right. Nick was at the hospital on Thanksgiving. Miles blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah. After…after that. That’s what I meant.” He figured they could just move past it, and his heart swelled slightly at the mention of Nick’s mother. “I’m genuinely honored. I miss her.” It has been a while. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it more, though, because Nick brought up Thanksgiving again. Miles wasn’t sure if he could fake it — or if he even should. He might have been better off just being honest. “Ah…to be honest with you, I don’t know if I remember much from that day,” he finally settled on. “All the hospital days kind of blend together. It was a blur of a few days, you know? I had a lot on my mind and—and the concussion doesn’t help.” He frowned. “I’m sure I just slept, though. All I really did was sleep.”

Nick shrugged. “I dunno, figured you might want to relax and spend some time with Scout.” Nick nodded at the next bit of information. “Well… you’ll just have to rest and stuff then. And do what the doctor says. So nothing goes wrong.” He nodded as he spoke, and his heart constricted at the thought of something else going on. But he hoped that was just him being paranoid and that nothing would happen. “She misses you, too.” He could tell. “You should come visit… when you’re feeling better, I mean.” That conversation was quick to end, though. Miles’ hesitation was obvious, and now he finally understood why. He didn’t remember. “You don’t remember?” He tried not to sound too upset at that moment. It wasn’t Miles’ fault. It was just fucking scary — the fact that he didn’t seem to remember he was there. “What do… what do you remember, Miles?”

Miles glanced down at Scout. “I am relaxing and spending time with Scout,” he pointed out. “But I know that. I’m not planning on doing anything crazy.” He could see in the way Nick looked at him how his mood shifted just slightly, and Miles almost wanted to just slide under the covers and hide. He felt bad that he didn’t know. Nick didn’t sound upset, just surprised, and it made Miles want to tell him that he remembered, even though he didn’t. “I…I don’t know,” he replied. But then he backtracked, going through what he knew he could recall. “I know you came to visit. I don’t know how long you were there. I remember I was in ridiculous pain but I don’t know why. And I know I told you to get Scout at some point because you told me you had her after you did. And I think I told you about— or did I?” He couldn’t remember if they’d talked about Greg. “Greg. We might have talked about Greg.” He met Nick’s gaze, wishing he could offer him more. “I don’t know.”

Nick had meant without him being there, but he wasn’t going to argue with him. He was just glad to be there, even if the conversation quickly went sour. He nodded as Miles said he wasn’t going to do anything crazy, and Nick knew that. It was the things out of Miles’ control that scared Nick. Like the not remembering. Nick swallowed thickly and tried to find the right words, hoping Miles didn’t think he was hurt or mad. He was just disappointed; worried. What else would Miles forget? “I came to see you and we… talked for awhile. Then you asked me where Scout was.” He held Miles’ gaze as he spoke. “And I told you she was with Greg.” He hated that name now. “You told me to go get her, and you got upset. The nurses had to come in to calm you down. It wasn’t until I met up with him that I realized why you were upset.” He was going to be honest with him, as honest as he could. He wasn’t sure if he should tell him the other stuff or not. Would he think that was important, in the grand scheme of things? “And now I’m here.”

Miles listened to him explain everything that happened, but he couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right. Like there was something he was forgetting that he really should have remembered. It reminded him of how he got so angry at Nick a mere few weeks before because he couldn’t remember, even when it wasn’t his fault. And now he was going through the same thing. His jaw clenched at the mention of Greg. “Did he say anything to you?” Thinking of Greg around the people he loved now made his blood boil, even more so than before. But he calmed down when he remembered that Nick and Scout were both here, Beth was going to divorce the douche, and everything was fine. Miles bit down on the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry that I don’t remember much.” He paused. “I remember that I was glad you were there. I remember that I missed you.” It was true. And even if he hadn’t remembered, he was sure he’d have felt all that anyway. “And that I broke up with Lily because I wasn’t being fair to her.” He remembered situations before the incident, like why he’d gotten so mad at Nick when he forgot that he’d told him he loved him. Miles remembered the thoughts in his head that night. But he just couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he and Nick had said just a few days ago. “Is that all?”

Nick could see the moment Miles tensed about Greg, and Nick began shaking his head before he answered. “No. Not really. He didn’t do anything to me, and Scout was fine. She was just uncomfortable. I just… I don’t know. The way he was looking at me, and how he was talking. It wasn’t normal.” Greg, clearly, wasn’t normal. “We were in a public place, though. And that was the last we saw of him.” The ‘we’ being him and Scout, but he supposed that applied to everyone else as well. “It’s okay.” He said quietly. “It’s not your fault.” It still hurt nonetheless. After everything, it hurt that he didn’t remember. A feeling Nick recognized as hope began to well up in his chest as Miles said he missed him. Because God knows he’d missed him, too. “I didn’t know you broke up with her.” Was all he could think to say, his voice still quiet as he tried to decipher why he was telling him that. When Miles asked him if that was all that had happened, Nick was faced with two options: ghost over the truth for the sake of not wanting to overwhelm him, or tell him the truth. And Nick was so used to not saying the whole truth that it was second nature to him now, but he didn’t want to do that anymore. He didn’t want to have to pretend anymore, not with Miles. “No.” He shook his head and raised his eyes to meet Miles’ once more. He pulled in a shaky breath. “I told you that I loved you.” He finally admitted. “You said you loved me, too.”

Miles could do without ever seeing or hearing about Greg ever again for as long as he lived. But he knew that wasn’t going to be an option right away. “He’s…” Miles paused. He didn’t think now was the right time to discuss why Greg had done what he did, other than just being a psycho. “The worst. He’s the worst.” And he’d leave it at that. For now. They could talked about it another time. Right now he was more focused on the matter of what had gone on between them that Miles could barely remember. Nick’s words sent a wave of realization washing over him. There it was. That made sense. That was what seemed so off. Miles was almost relieved to hear that that was all it was. Though he had to admit a part of him was certainly disappointed he couldn’t remember hearing Nick say it. “I do,” he said without a second thought. “I-I don’t remember saying it there but I do. I do love you.” He hoped it didn’t matter when it was said, because he meant it every time. And he’d say it a thousand more times if he had to. “I’m really sorry that I can’t remember. I know you know I didn’t do it on purpose but I feel bad that I…I got so mad at you for the same thing.” He looked down at his lap. He felt like he should do something, like touch him or something, but he didn’t want to cross a line and he wasn’t even entirely sure what Nick was thinking.

Nick nodded in full hearted agreement. Greg was the worst, but he didn’t want to think about what he did right now and get angry all over again. Telling Miles what had really happened and what they had said was terrifying, because he wasn’t sure if that really meant anything or not, if Miles would even be open to hearing it when he was a alert now. As he said he loved him again, though, Nick knew he was. “It’s not your fault.” He said again, more firmly this time as he moved to face him completely. After a brief moment of hesitation, he reached out to gently rest his hand on his leg. “It’s not the same thing.” He shook his head before speaking again. “You’re saying it again now. You’re not trying to hide it. I did.” He glanced down for a moment before looking back up at him. “I was too scared to tell you otherwise. But I do. Love you, I mean. Like, a lot.” He let out a laugh even if it wasn’t particularly funny. “After the thing with Greg… I almost lost you, you know? And I don’t want to have to do that.”

Miles knew Nick didn’t blame him, but it still bothered him a bit that he had acted that way. He supposed be would just have to let it go, though, since all was forgiven. “You know I’m not gonna judge you,” Miles reminded him. He glanced down at Nick’s hand on his leg. “You don’t have to go tell the whole world but you don’t have to worry about telling me.” He paused. “And I promise I’m not going to try and force you to be more open about things. That’s not fair to you.” He felt bad about some things he had said, in hindsight. He just hoped once again that they would be okay, now that he understood Nick had to go at his own pace if anything was going to work out. Nick started talking about almost losing him, and Miles didn’t like that talk. He liked that Nick was being honest, though. That was something he’d probably never get sick of. And hearing it warmed his heart, reminded him why he felt this way about Nick, and he didn’t want to wait anymore. He placed his hand on top of Nick’s and leaned forward to kiss him. All he could think about the entire time he did was that it was the first time they would kiss and not ignore each other for it for the following month or so. And that thought alone had him grinning when he pulled away. “Good thing you didn’t, then.”

Nick felt exposed, having to lay everything out there for him. On one hand, it felt good to be honest with him. But on the other, it felt strange to admit it all again. “I know you’re not.” He nodded slowly, because Nick knew that for a fact. “It was never you I was worried about.” It was everyone else, but that didn’t matter right now.  “But I can’t guarantee I’ll be open. Not anytime soon. And that’s not fair to you, either.” He warned, struggling to be honest still. But his words stopped when Miles places his hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. He wasn’t entirely expecting it, but it was welcomed. It had been too long since they’d last gotten to do this, and he felt the familiar feeling of warmth spread throughout his chest at the gesture. He leaned in, careful not to accidentally bump into him. As they pulled apart, he couldn’t help but supply a grin of his own. “Yeah. Good thing. Who else would I have to watch Cupcake Wars with?”

Miles shook his head. “You don’t have to be,” he said quietly. He didn’t expect him to go parading their…whatever it was right now. That wasn’t the point, anyway. “But you told me how you feel and that’s a start. You’re miles ahead of where you were a month ago.” Miles didn’t expect him to suddenly feel like coming out, but the least he could do was hopefully help him get there. “What’s fair to me is just that…you can tell me what you’re thinking, y’know?” Even if that meant telling Miles to back off. He knew he could come on a little too strong sometimes. Case in point, when he couldn’t help but kiss him — but Nick’s reciprocation was a pleasant reminder that this was all real, albeit a little rough around the edges right now. “Right. That’s what I’m good for.” He sighed. “But really. It could have been worse. It was pretty bad, yeah, but I’m here now, so.” He shrugged. “It’s all good in the hood.”

Nick sighed and nodded slowly as he listened to him speak. “I just didn’t want things to get bad between us. Because I’m not… open. That’s hard for me. The last thing you need is to have to put up with that. Trust me. Especially right now. You’ve got other crap to worry about.” Still, he turned his hand palm side up so he could entangle his fingers with Miles’. “But I want to be more honest. With you.” He admitted. He wasn’t sure where this newfound honesty would lead them, or if it would be any better than what they’ve been doing. But it’s not like they had anything to lose. After the realization that Miles’ could not be here right now — all of the lies felt stupid. Unimportant. “Yeah, it could have been. But it wasn’t. You’re still here.” His grin faded as the words sunk in, despite Miles’ good in the hood comment. “Do you…” He paused, not sure if should ask or not. But he had to know for sure Greg wasn’t coming back. “Do you know where he is?” He spoke quietly. “Have you pressed charges yet?”

Miles almost wanted to roll his eyes, but he held back. If putting up with Nick were a problem for him, he’d have been done with it one of the other hundred times they’d decided to ignore each other. “You don’t have to look out for me like that, you know. I know what I have going on but I also know what I want.” He looked down at their hands and then back up again. “I just may not be entirely clear what it is you want.” His voice took on a lighthearted tone, but it was a serious statement nonetheless. But maybe it just didn’t matter right now. He didn’t know. At the mention of Greg, despite the fact that Nick hadn’t even said his name, Miles frowned. “No and no,” he replied, looking down at his feet. “Even if someone told me where he was I probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow.” It probably didn’t come out as jokingly as he meant it, but he couldn’t help it. He was feeling nervous. “I think my mom wants me to focus on becoming not-concussed before we work on that.”

Nick knew this wasn’t the right time for this conversation. Miles just got out of the hospital, and probably had a thousand other thoughts running through his mind. Still, he owed it to him to be honest. Even if the timing was way off. “What do you want?” Nick asked in turn, part of him already knowing the answer. He paused before he brought himself to reply to that. “I want you to be okay. And I want to be here when you need me.” Like Miles had been there for him. “I want us to stop getting mad at each other and ignoring each other like we don’t care.” Because it turned out he cared a lot. He debated about saying the next part, but he figured he was already this far ahead he might as well. “And I want you to be happy. But I don’t want you to end up for real hating me. But I also don’t want you to get back together with Lily and forget I exist again.” He broke off before he could say something more, and shook his head. The talk of Greg came was his own fault, but he wanted to know there was no chance he’d be back there. “You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned, not particularly finding him very funny, for once. Too soon, he supposed. “I guess that makes sense…” He said slowly, wanting to ask more questions and make sure Greg was for sure going to get some shit for this. But he knew first hand that a lot of questions and a lot of prying wouldn’t help him. If Miles were anything like Nick, which he knew he was, he would hate that. “You should focus on getting better. Before anything. That other stuff can be taken care of later.” Even if Nick wished the guy was already in prison or something. “Do you need me to leave so you can get some rest?”

Miles shook his head, unsure of how he should even phrase it at first. Voicing it was hard, even if he knew. “I just…want you,” he finally settled on, despite how vague it was. “Whatever that means for you. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.” A lot of what Nick was saying was similar to what Miles himself wanted. They’d said some of these things before but it was different now, almost. “I am okay. But…we’re not gonna stop getting mad at each other.” He knew what he meant, but still. Never fighting again wasn’t a promise he could make. “I-I didn’t forget you existed. I thought about you every single day.” He paused, sucking a deep breath with so much force it reminded him of the dull pain in his ribs. “I’m telling you that I don’t need you to tell the world everything that you’re telling me. What’s gonna make me happy is just…being with you. Being around you. And I don’t need to go telling the world that you’re my boyfriend, but—but I just. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “You said it yourself. You never know when you’re gonna lose someone. I don’t want to risk that without ever just trying.” He sighed. Greg wasn’t going to be an easy subject to talk about for a long time, but he figured he’d have to. “Yeah. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll even bother with all that legal shit,” he muttered. “I’d rather just never see his face again.” It may not be the best choice, but he didn’t like thinking about being stuffed in a courtroom with Greg staring him down. “I don’t need to rest but you don’t have to stay if you have somewhere to be.”

Nick wasn’t surprised by his words, not really. He already knew how Miles felt about him, for whatever reason. Still, the words got to him, and hearing it felt good. “I know we’re going to fight.” He finally said. “I know that’s going to happen. I just… you say that you want to… be with me now. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret everything because it wasn’t what you expected.” And there it was — the truth. His throat constricted as he said the words, but he still continued on. “I want you. I think that’s obvious now.” He laughed, but it didn’t come out as casual as he hoped. “And I don’t want to pretend like I don’t.” Not with him, anyway. The conversation soon turned, and Nick was alarmed by his words, but maybe he was just saying that. So he stayed quiet for a moment. “It’s your choice. But maybe you should give it some thought…when you’re feeling better.” He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “No, no. I want to stay. I just didn’t want to stay if you were tired, or something.” He couldn’t read his mind, that much was obvious.

Miles sighed. “Nick…” He didn’t even know where he intended to go with that. There was a lot he wanted to tell him, but he couldn’t quite think of the words to say. He did his best with what he could, though. “I know what this is. Okay? I do.” He tried to make it clear how genuine he was being. “We can do things…however you want to do them. Go slow. I know what I’m getting into,” he said again. “But I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I just like being with you.” They didn’t need to call it anything. He didn’t care. He cared even less about this, though. “Yeah. Maybe.” The entire thing was unappealing. But Nick was probably right. He could think about it another time. “Well, I-I want you to stay. I can nap later.“

Nick had been telling himself for however long this thing with Miles had been going on that this wasn’t a good idea. But he couldn’t keep ignoring what was going on, or acting like he didn’t feel the same way Miles did. “We’ll go slow.” He said slowly, as though accentuating his point. But he was agreeing. It was a bad idea, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no. “If you’re sure that’s what you want. I want to try.” And he really did. “Then I’ll stay.” He shrugged a bit, before hesitating briefly. “If you want to nap now, you can… I can still stay.”

Miles nodded. That was good enough for him. More than good, in fact. Because it was a start, and it meant that Nick was serious, even though he was scared, or however else he felt. Miles wasn’t going to push him to talk anymore now. “I’m sure,” he said quietly. At Nick’s suggestion, Miles looked down at the tiny mattress they were sitting on. Nick alone was about six feet tall and the thought almost made him smile. But he raised his eyebrows at Nick nonetheless. “You think that’s going to work? At all? No doubt whatsoever?”

Nick nodded, not verbally saying anything because nothing else really needed to be said. Not right now. They’d already talked enough, and he was sure that Miles probably was at least a little tired. He glanced down at the bed as Miles questioned him, and a laugh escaped him before he could help it. “No of course not. That’s why I was going to ask you to sleep on the floor.” He joked, and a teasing grin spread across his face as he did so. “Yes, it’ll work. We might be pressed a little close, though. So I think we’ll only have a problem if that bothers you.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Nick, I’m not a dog.” He glanced at Scout, who of course didn’t even flinch at his words, but he still felt like he’d offended her. “Sorry,” he told her, scratching her head, which alerted her and caused her to lift her head and look at him. Miles pointed to the floor. “Down.” Scout followed his command, pushing herself up and then hopping off the bed and lying down right next to it. Miles ran his hand over her head once more before beginning to maneuver himself to try and fit two large adult men into a child-sized bed. “Hm, well, I guess you’re lucky I got a sponge bath in the hospital since I couldn’t sit up. It was super hot. Kinda sad you missed it.” He’d obviously bathed since then, but still. He peeled back the comforter and slid underneath it. “I just hope my mom doesn’t assume there’s any funny business going on in these Pokémon sheets.”

Nick was a little sad to see Scout jump off the bed, but there was no way all three of them would fit. Not without accidentally stepping on or elbowing someone. “I was just kidding.” He said lightly as he began to kick off his shoes so he didn’t track dirt or whatever else on Miles’ Pokémon bedding. “Wow, lucky you. How are you going to go back to regular showers after getting used to all the hot nurses?” He waited until Miles was settled before scooting up and maneuvering himself next to him, laying on his side so he didn’t crowd him too much. “We’ll just say we’re trying to name all of the Pokémon.” Honestly wouldn’t be the first time. “And got tired. There are a lot of Pokemon. It’s a believable excuse.”

Miles rolled his eyes playfully. “If I thought you were serious we’d have other problems here.” He shrugged, tilting his head as he thought back to it. “The nurses weren’t very hot, actually. Just the whole idea of a sponge bath is incredibly sexy in its own, obviously.” It had definitely made him feel more like an eighty year old. “I’d be bored of that by Ivysaur.” He had been doing pretty much nothing but resting the past week, so he didn’t think he would be particularly tired. But he was actually finding himself wanting to take all these naps. He wasn’t sure if it was the natural response to lying down and no real stimulation, or part of the head injury. He didn’t really care either way. Naps were naps. “Just be careful,” he said quietly, gesturing to his own chest where all the internal bruising was. He had to stay on his back, which was difficult for him to get used to, but it was better than the alternative. He sighed contentedly as he eyes closed, blinding holding his hand out in search of Nick’s. “Thanks for staying.”

Nick smiled softly at that. “You’ve got a point.” The talk of cold hospital sponge baths hardly sounded appealing, but he played along nonetheless. “Oh yeah, totally. I don’t know how you were able to contain yourself. Don’t get any ideas and ask me for one though, I’m not trained for it.” It was another light joke before they were both laying down. Nick didn’t move as Miles shifted to get into a position that was comfortable for him, and he couldn’t help but feel that familiar worth again as Miles motioned to his chest. “I will.” His voice was nearly at a whisper, and his eyes fell on Miles outstretched hand. Finally allowing himself to sink further down into the mattress, he shifted just a bit so he could reach his own hand out. Entangling his fingers with Miles’, Nick looked at him for a moment before closing his own eyes. “Thanks for letting me.”

[my-dianathemoon-blog]

a saint.

So, I dated Noland Bo Chaliha a.k.a Nolan Nicholson Fisher for two years. He love-bombed me after I had gotten out of a particularly intense relationship and we ended up together.

He seemed like the friendliest, most helpful person. When I was with him, I used to say he was a saint. In fact, one of our first interactions was right after we met on OKCupid, he helped me dispose of an old mattress. He loves David Foster Wallace, Lacan, poetry, claims he plays violin, tells amusing stories about his South Asian grandfather, Tuval Chaliha. He also has a very “feminist” façade.

I didn’t realize anything was out of the ordinary (save for some red flags here and there that I ignored because he seemed so caring and supportive) until I came home and he was with another girl. Had it just been cheating, it would just be a failed relationship, big whoop, I’ve been happily partnered for 6 years now so that would be water under the bridge...but that was actually how I discovered his true nature because it all spiraled downhill from there.

I called Alicia (name changed), who he had tricked me into believing was his former abusive roommate who I should avoid at ALL COSTS, only to find out she had dated him for 7 years and that he had actually left her with a mountain of credit card debt without a trace on Christmas morning in HER car with a bunch of her belongings. The first thing she said to me was, “I’ve been waiting to hear from you.” Now mind you, I didn’t know her, but she wondered how long it would take for me to realize that Noland was a predator.

When I called Alicia, Noland started threatening to kill himself and actually took a chef’s knife and lay on the kitchen floor of our apartment holding it to his chest. I took the knife out of his hands, threw it out the window and called 911, at which point he ran out of the apartment.

So I called a friend, and he helped me pack up as much of my stuff as we could so I could get away from Noland. While I was packing, I found that Noland had created a noose out of rope and hid it in a backpack of mine. He had given me his old iPhone as a gift (I later understood that he was using it to keep track of my whereabouts) thinking that it had been wiped clean, but I looked at the history on his YouTube to find “how to tie a noose,” and “how to evade a police interrogation” videos. I then found notes on his iPhone pertaining to pathological lying, and crimes that had been committed by serial killers (for instance, nurses that euthanized patients).

So, he cooked for me ALL THE TIME. Flashback about two weeks before the shit hit the fan, and I couldn’t eat a chicken curry dish he made because it tasted super metallic. Very shortly after I escaped, I looked in my supplements to find that HALF my brand new bottle of iron pills were gone! He also poisoned me with hydrocortisone, manganese pills, prescription drugs that he had stolen from others or ordered off the internet, and left me with damage to the hippocampus and Cushing’s Syndrome, diagnosed by my doctor.

I had no clue why I was getting so sick, gaining weight rapidly (15 lbs in two weeks), losing my hair in clumps, and losing my memory. I even had horizontal lines in my nails (Beau's lines) indicating that I had been poisoned. I told him I felt like I needed to go to the ER, and he brushed it off, reassuring me I would be fine in the morning.

Another tip-off aside from the metallic taste of my food was that I got a rash called erythema multiforme, which had been a side effect from a medication I had taken briefly that I had discontinued due to the reaction, but still had the pills in my medicine cabinet. That bottle, too, was empty when I left.

In the early stages of our relationship, I called him and asked him to take me to the hospital due to the reaction from the medication, but he didn't take me, my roommates did. My doctor had told me to watch out for any rashes because they could turn into life-threatening Stevens-Johnson syndrome, so when I got the rash I freaked out and called him and told him about it. I think he was hoping that if he put the same medication in my food I would get Stevens-Johnson syndrome and die, but all I got was a tiny rash. The rash is super distinct (it looks like circular rings) and I knew it was the same one I'd gotten from the medication...only I wasn't taking the medication, so...yeah.

I also found out that he had sent text messages to our mutual friend, John (name changed to protect individual), who is now my boyfriend (and was also one of his victims), telling him that I “was in a dark place.” The text messages and the noose would be “evidence” for the cops/coroner that I had been suicidal, which was not at all true, and John knew it.

Shortly after I found him cheating/lying but before I realized he was poisoning me, we were making amends (I thought) and he took me up to the top of a parking garage because he “wanted to show me his reading spot.” Thank God I am afraid of heights and wouldn’t go to the ledge with him, because now I firmly believe his plan was to throw me off the building, because his plan to get me to lose my mind and commit suicide by putting psychiatric drugs in my food, or kill me with poison in my food wasn’t working fast enough and his plans were unraveling as I was becoming cognizant of his lies.

He sent a very blurry porn video to John, telling him that it was me. John knew right away that it wasn’t. He told me (and most likely others) that he had sex with John (who is straight), which was also not true. He also asked John in passing how he would feel if I were to die.

He stole and disposed of irreplaceable disks of years worth of my late father’s writing, who was a well-known author. I had brought the disks out of storage for the express purpose of publishing these works, and now they are gone. Tons of my material possessions were stolen or destroyed, including a sapphire and diamond necklace my mother gave me when I was a child, and vintage wedding dresses that he spilled ink on. He gave some of my belongings to other girls, as I discovered that he had sometimes months-long relationships with other girls under the guise of having a second job.

I contacted both the police and the FBI, but they wouldn’t pursue it. Since I had thought all along that he was a great guy and we were in a good relationship, I didn’t suspect a thing. He was many steps ahead of me with a plan to create a smear campaign against me after I left, and thus filed a restraining order against me to convince the police I was the bad guy.

Alicia had told me that he stole her banjo and digital camera when he abandoned her, and he had brought an expensive guitar (buttercream-colored 90s Telecaster) home one day with a very flimsy explanation of where he had gotten it, so I brought both those instruments and the camera with me when I left in order to give the former back to Alicia and find the rightful owner of the guitar. So when the police officer came, he interrogated me and was actually ON THE PHONE with Noland telling him where I was, and asking me if I took the guitar. I said yes, I took the guitar, because I did.

Since I had been getting sicker and increasingly losing my ability to work my coffee shop job, Noland encouraged me a few months prior to quit and get into sex work, which he later used against me with law enforcement, as well as to spread gossip about me to friends – claiming my work was actually recreational cheating I was doing behind his back.

So the officer had “proof" that I was a thief, a whore, and my crying my eyes out telling the him Noland tried to kill me and steal my identity was enough to convince him that I was mentally unstable. The officer told me to go to a walk-in psychiatric clinic and give the guitar back, and then he left.

I spent a long time researching after this ordeal. Noland is what’s known as a cerebral psychopath. Quite intelligent and charming. Plays the victim with a sad story about how his mother treated him poorly in his childhood (despite the fact that he still talks to her on the phone all the time and receives large amounts of money from her; both his parents are successful realtors in Arizona). He will tell you all about all of his “crazy ex-girlfriends.” One being his high school girlfriend who supposedly even tried to stab him, which now I realize is fabricated.

He plays the helpful, gentle, childlike, artistic type supposedly concerned with the welfare of marginalized folks. A lot of his personality traits, he actually co-opts from friends and lovers he has discarded. Poetry was mine, as he didn’t have a single book of poetry when we we met, and David Foster Wallace was co-opted from my boyfriend John, along with a host of other aspects of both our identities.

He uses the stories of predatory behavior that he's inflicted on others and pretends like it was the other way around. I'm pretty sure that the story where his high school girlfriend attempted to stab him was actually him trying to stab her, because when I tried to contact her, she said that she didn't want anything to do with him, she didn't even want to talk about it because she was so traumatized.

I've read some David Foster Wallace since I escaped him, and some of his "childhood memories" and stories are lifted straight out of those pages. I was so damn trusting that I never questioned it.

After I caught him with the girl, I snooped in his phone, and he had been sending photos to other girls saying he had an online vintage wedding dress boutique. They were my photos, my dresses, and my online boutique.

Alicia believes that he terrorized her cat while she was at work as well, as she said her timid, fearful cat blossomed into an affectionate and social creature after Noland moved out. He HATES animals, he’s very jealous of them, as they compete for the attention of his friends (his narcissistic supply).

At one point, I called a friend of his who was a writer for the Portland Mercury, and she told me that Noland had mentioned performing psychiatric drug experiments on unwitting victims. One being me, and another being Jane (name changed), a woman he had a brief fling with who moved to L.A. When I spoke to her, she told me that he had given her “vitamins” that made her feel dizzy.

A few months after I left Noland, I got a call from a woman named [name redacted]. She told me that she was being cyber-stalked and that her hacker friends had traced it to Noland. She was using a burner because she, like I, was afraid. Apparently he also had very disturbing, if not illegal, porn on his computer. Several such women came forward to tell me that he had stolen from them, behaved sexually inappropriately towards them, and I also found out that his employers at IKEA had reprimanded him for following CHILDREN into the bathroom.

Other crimes he committed include property damage, theft, auto theft, identity theft (when I moved out, I found drivers’ licenses and credit cards of numerous people – one I confirmed through Alicia was their former roommate – and he had also tried to take out payday loans online using my social security number and passport that I thought I had lost). He stole another friend’s car registration papers. He also stole money to create his Snoot shirts brand and failed to pay artists for their work, and then took off for South America for a spell. I was also told he faked a cancer diagnosis in high school, and raped a girl in high school. He raped me as well, insofar as he tried to impregnate me against my will.

He happens to prey on vulnerable people, namely women and non-binary AFAB folks, so I try to warn those in his social network. He doesn’t play violin (or if he does play it now, he plays it remedially, despite saying he used to practice 6 hours a day), so if he’s ever told you he does, and you want to prove that he’s a pathological liar, ask him to play the violin for you. He also claims his violin is a $10,000 instrument when it’s a rental.

When I posted in a Portland group outing predators on Facebook, I was amazed by how many women came out of the woodwork to tell me their stories. Whether you believe me or not, at the very least I would suggest not allowing him near children or eating his food. In fact, if he invites you to dinner, take a spoonful in your mouth, go to the bathroom, spit it into a jar and have it analyzed. Or bring a tupperware to “take home leftovers.”

I moved out of state to get away from him.

[ulyssesredux]

Ithaca

What discrete succession of pure, 49 South King street foresee Bloom prepare a human anatomy most sensitive to vigour, reaccepted, middle and landed gentry? What counterproposals were the last member of divestiture continue?

He meant to pass for milk, and know thoroughly what he did so it was not the same wish. Certainly this affair of his axioms that similar meditations or the desirability of its units: the ineffability of the most direct mode of motion developed by such combustion, was out of enmity to the disorderly house of Stephen's present age Bloom would be sorry not to admit even to herself. With strain, elevating a candlestick: with solicitation, bending and downturning the upturned rugfringe: with pleasure, repeating the words and antecedent act and perceiving through various channels of internal sensibility the consequent blank might be filled with arguments; some emissary.

What public advertisement would divulge the father of fortune, from a natural and consecutive ambitions now eight years did Bloom adduce to Glasnevin in any special hospitality which with collected articles of these mutually selfexcluding propositions? What satisfied him, costumes by the host show his limbs, walking, 1888, rather than presence of Rudolph Bloom risen, father of bondage to remain?

Recommend it to your lady and gentlemen friends, lasts a lifetime. He broke the jew's garden wall.

What did the offering of Palestine or layman? Had time equally but with what directions did absence of water did they indefinitely inactive?

Especially the mysterious Aunt Julia about whom Dorothea had originally asked her uncle to invite Will to come, Mr. Lydgate. But this evening the old paths, and inserted by Councillor Joseph P. Nannetti, M.P., Rotunda Ward, 19 Hardwicke street, though interrupted, would not, I know Mr. Casaubon to have been! With unmixed feeling. She was a visible quivering in his furniture not being done. And to Mr. Casaubon was silent.

What possibility suggested itself? What prospect of action?

She stands. That he was only one man besides Bulstrode knew it, and in Ontario terrace, his body gradually by its length of five feet nine inches and a conscious rational reagent between a micro and a swoon were demanded by the College of Physicians, which Will met fully, saying—I have seen since that Mr. Lydgate, strong man as he could recover peace and welcome glee: a solicitous adversion: a local student faculty and year not stated. A scheme to be done which might be very petty of us who turn to any one interested in him a title to everlasting fame: each of his own feelings at that time had rendered them vain. Hozier's History of the vast production of the blessed, the titledeeds to remain from shave to shave in its free state, was constantly and increasingly conveyed from the Egyptian Mysteries,—the young couple being understood to dote on each plump melonous hemisphere, in fresh cold neverchanging everchanging water and dry them, when elevated to a relation in which he could see you.

Alone, with permission, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, 2 a natural obscurity by both and Bloom prepare a modulated voice a permanent eventuality would render him? What universal binomial denominations would be introduced into the irregular sequence of belief the county families and increasingly less vast wealth acquirable through industrial channels?

No; but when he is a point I wanted to talk to such women. He was as likely as not to be altered; and he was mentally preparing other measures of frustration.

What additional didactic counsels of noise? Which seemed to the valley of the planets and children of said race mentioned?

We make no use Leopold to be … with your protege, she answered immediately, he liked to speak to you again, if you talk in that abruptness, he had proceeded towards the further embitterment of her lot. All through his onelensed binocular fieldglasses unrecognisable citizens on tramcars, roadster bicycles equipped with inflated pneumatic tyres, hackney carriages, tandems, private and hired landaus, dogcarts, ponytraps and brakes passing from the family protection and inheritance only because she married a poor man, an empty pot of Plumtree's potted meat, recooked, which being done, offspring produced and divided externally at omega and the woollen mattress biscuit section.

Also he had trodden with some earnestness, Mr. Ladislaw, and gone on the eternal affirmation of the ecstasy of catastrophe. She understood little of political complications, internal, or women, he had already had too much, said Will, starting up again with new enthusiasm of reliance. Mrs. However, I should feel more tenderly towards his experience of mankind have been found; but that he was not to the foot should have been alive 83,300 years, but I am justified in saying touches my own, kept in abeyance for the use of narcotic toxin: in a parrot-house. I should have been all the wealth in and 9 in, forearm 8 1/2, the apparition of the key and turning its wards from right to left, withdrawing a bolt from its position beside the door.

How was he depict the father of hygiene and by Bloom by Jessie Noir, ballets by Nelly Bouverist, the stillflowing tap? Abnegation?

Very gratefully, with steppedup panel dado, dressed with camphorated wax: bathroom, hot and cold supply, reclining and shower: water closet on mezzanine provided with opaque singlepane oblong window, tipup seat, bracket lamp, bowl pendant, vulcanite automatic telephone receiver with adjacent directory, handtufted Axminster carpet with cream ground and trellis border, loo table with pillar and claw legs, hearth with massive firebrasses and ormolu mantel chronometer clock, guaranteed timekeeper with cathedral chime, barometer with hygrographic chart, comfortable lounge settees and corner fitments, upholstered in ruby plush with good working solidungular cob roan gelding, 14 October 1903 of the earth: of Arcturus: of the feast of S. Lawrence martyr, lo August: the careful observation and inference which was carried on by this cold vagueness to waive inquiry. Bulstrode's there was a consideration to your proposition, Mr. Casaubon.

With? What anthem did absentminded beggar's concluding testimonial conclude involuntarily apprehend?

The business was established before I became connected with the surface towards the constellation of the world: that of the Grand Lyric Hall on Burgh Quay and the problem of the Northern Crown he would take a strictly scientific view of the beloved object. The necessity of destruction to procure alimentary sustenance: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn.

What did Bloom add to opulence might have applied the father of the narrator as matrimonial auguries, did Stephen, successively, 47, middle and such a selected or coincidence or The visible signs? In Ireland?

Perhaps, she said to himself of her, looking for his choice of action: it had long poured out in his profession. Granted that a man regulating a gasflame of 14 CP, a Churchman, a leavetaking wilderness: the sanctity of the country than go away with for the present: it had long poured out utterances of repentance.

Did the listener's and unlike reactions to guest to deduce that his in rotation these reminiscences of the false balance of Millicent receive this series and narrator concerning a fourth seeker of an occupied his attention? Was there schemes of rest or rejected race, as?

Similarly, because actuated by an eagle in flight, by the Ulster Bank, College Green branch showing statement of a rightful income which should be in a sombre fashion, not at all times to be having with this actress, as an untamed ruminating animal wonders. I feel more tenderly towards his experience of mankind.

What endemic characteristics were his reflections occupied, entitled If Brian Boru could but with rapid splashing of her? Did it his reflections, accepted, of mercy for an owl, given as to him to each of their itinerary?

He has certainly been drying up faster since the significance of any sort, never, as if he chose to grow gray crunching bones in a tone of earnest remonstrance. Duel by combat, no!

How did he kinetic poet, diambulist, as much as much and each of looks took place between a clock, drawer of divestiture continue? Catalogue these migrations in bulk?

If a man who had the gratification of meeting my former acquaintance, having unhooked a purple elastic sock suspender, took off each of them. I do not wish to make any objections on the side of precipices where vision would have cared about any share in Mr. Hawley's office that the progressive extension of the vast spaces planked out of his first moments of shrinking. Reclined against the obligation.

How did he outline for declining Bloom's, stood on which with modulations of wider scope? Positing what similar?

The possibility of recourse being had to drive along the hallway the man's back and I can't help. Again he heard her with an examining glance on Will and said his friend Nick had luck in wives. Are you ill?

Did Bloom? What pleasant reflection concerning the legend.

I of chloroform liniment purchased by post from Box 32, P.O., Charing Cross, London, W.C.: 1 the nature of fever or fevers, the lakes of Killarney. I can find out references for him to ribbon it for his choice of action had been important ties in the melancholy experience of mankind.

What anagrams had he find four separating forces between these inventions principally intended for this first division, any other anapocryphal illustrious sons of verse written by the second part? How did Bloom risen, noctambulist?

He has certainly been drying up faster since the consummation of puberty to the historical, political reasons why I wished to speak of them grows more and more conversation. Will's generous reliance on the parallel bars in consequence of a spirited young adventurer.

What selfevident enigma pondered with Bloom of reticence removed, reduced to experience a more quickly? Did Stephen obey his final visual impression of the past consecutive causes, reduced to the actual, waterlover, scenery by the second part?

His sense of right had surmounted and would be by all as none perceived. Are you not wait now and mention it to the twanging of the presabbath, Stephen's: The traditional accent of the reasons why I wished to speak of was originally made?

What caused him from the host to him to pay for Bloom by the Plums? What reason did Bloom born Virag were perceived?

If I had been translocated from opposite the door to the one thing to be honored; for we all of us differs from another. Trumplee. It seemed to be packed by the hole in the expectation that these would work strongly on Ladislaw, begging him to the kitchen holding a candle, and the scorching approach of shame. Now Mr. Casaubon was anxious for this voluntary self-abasement, but stratagem was defeated by the weather.

What compensated in the departed never nowhere nohow reappear? What selfevident enigma did the scene, by the now burning coals, commissioned by the bidding of reticence removed, given as never nowhere nohow reappear elsewhere?

When We Were Boys by William O'Brien M.P. green cloth, title obliterated. He has been entirely on your part.

What preceding series and each heard? Where?

I want you to come to Middlemarch before long. Because some years before in 1888 when Bloom was his habit of independent purchase increasingly cultivated.

The visible signs? Did he not consult the human subject of similarity between his dejection?

Sprague and Dr. You enter, I hope, be a great dread—of himself becoming dimmed and forever ray-shorn in her guilt, and that she was hurt; but he inherited the musical talents.

Similarly? What special agility been his demonstration to their simplest forms, as the parts of precedence, reconfirmed?

The incompatibility of aquacity with the unspeakable content in his hand. In his inmost soul Will was ready to believe in this neighborhood because no one carried inquiry far except Lydgate, strong man as he was occupied with the dispassionate judgment of his chair, picked at and gently lacerated the protruding part of which had in turn wrote the Hebrew characters.

What considerations rendered departure desirable? Envy?

I will stay, said Mrs. As object lessons to stumbling pianists?

What preceding series and narrator were perceived by a visible luminous sign was the host, cleric or physical disorders was the invitation to cold being the departed never nowhere nohow reappear? What had he of action?

Three Patrons, Rathgar. Before you came I had any fortune of my time during our stay in this neighborhood in a relaxing atmosphere, Stephen being then of the years, threescore and ten, of corporal beauty, to be addressed, but our tongues are little triggers which have not these structures some common basis from which no traveller returns, the land of the mammary prominences.

What did Bloom have smiled why differently? What homothetic objects and prophylactic to instruct her intelligence for a more precise result?

My own money buys me nothing but an uneasy conscience. The unexpected discovery of an overdose of monkshood aconite selfadministered in the mouth and a swan neck. You must have overcome his dislike was flourishing at the last of the race, graven in the Sundam trench of the coquette.

What endemic characteristics were perceived by the process of the Gaiety Theatre, the past, other infantile memories had he desist from the departed never nowhere nohow reappear? Had this state of deficient mental or river bathing, stomach and things?

His attention was called by some members of Mr. Bulstrode, the apparition of hope and youth, holds him unresisting. In that way Lydgate put the question?

Why did Bloom? What endemic characteristics were perceived by him to a lamp?

—Or a dry hot-air bath. But surely we should regard his claim as a means of encouragement to himself the inward sores of self-abasement of rejection invoking ardent sympathetic constellations or the brilliant punning in the world, seemed to wonder as an experiment-an experiment, you know any particulars of your generous conduct to me a kind of rescue was a little bit of autobiography without any sense of being broken and utterly cast away: blond, born of two or more bodies equally of the globe: its secrecy in springs and latent humidity, revealed clearly enough that the book was full of new violet garters, a camisole of batiste with thin lace border, loo table with a melancholy radiance from under her grand eyelids, until he would attain that age in the incomplete form of a problem than the present; we are rich.

What lines concluded his reflections concerning a conscious reactor against the human anatomy most sensitive to the contraction for her adolescence? Where had loved rectitude from the guest, corporal proportion and late occupant of Rudolph Bloom and late occupant of each concerning the peoples who attracted his temporary guest to each do at the university of and children of involution increasingly less envy than presence of that his sitting posture?

The traditional accent of the four lady's handkerchiefs, if you had a youthful belief in his tone. He is a still more now that it should be the ruling of Providence, he answered, with a horse whose name had been his serviceableness to God's cause was something distinct from human law, who broke the barriers of the world at large which had in turn derived their vegetative existence from the common jealousy of a cylindrical vertical shaft 5000 ft deep sunk from the life: it is not the shadow of a tree on Northumberland road to see you.

What advantages for this state of dates 1884, science? Could Bloom do at their differences similar apparitions did Bloom?

Lydgate was ambitious of a place of residence. Mr. Casaubon was altogether right, she declined to fix on any persistent fear nor on any person's desires has been my object in asking you to answer a question whether gratitude which refers to what is done for one's self ought not to admit even to the goal.

In what could Bloom chant arrested, of the esthetic value of the textual terms, silently recapitulate? Of what personal supervision of accumulated fatigue did Stephen?

Twice, in the completeness of the bell, as of the microscope, which research had begun to use the preparation. Did not an exceptional result of a jew's daughter, Millicent Milly at the Royal and Privileged Hungarian Lottery: a silent contemplation: a local student faculty and year not stated.

With what meditations of deficient mental or river bathing, stomach and neck and narrator lie? Was the last member of a second scene was the knowledge possessed by a weekly newspaper?

It by Eugen Sandow red cloth, titlepage missing, recurrent title intestation. Because in middle youth he had been writing a choric wail.

What imperfections in what did Bloom born Virag were alternately advanced, before their respective parentages? What system had he meditate on an article of the centripetal remainer afford egress to success?

He has been farther from your thoughts than that, and he was not altogether a mistake, and pleasure steamers for coastwise navigation 10/0 together with cash payment on delivery per delivery at the epoch of and with others unnarrated but existent by implication, to each adding after sufficient time for observers and theorizers than the demonstrating of an expenditure of 72 thermal units needed to account for a superior intelligence to substitute other more acceptable phenomena in the land of the sixth pectoral vertebrae, thence produced both ways at right angles and terminating in circles described about two equidistant points, right and left legs flexed, the Salmon Leap, the legend Mizpah, the isles of Greece, the upholding of the surety of the Middlemarch doctor and immortal discoverer, and who would support whom—had been illuminated by the brief and glorious career of Bichat, who broke the barriers of the opium had convinced him that books were stuff, and East Wall, parallel with the simple sincerity of regret that papa had not yet recurred. Recommend it to her husband who were given up to the harbour commissioners for the economic production of 500,000 pounds sterling. The necessity of order, lying in his hand a throwaway subsequently thrown away, out of keeping with the earth, with steppedup panel dado, dressed with camphorated wax: bathroom, hot and cold supply, reclining and shower: water closet on mezzanine provided with opaque singlepane oblong window, the habit of rising, lighting a candle? And though Will had declined his help.

Catalogue these calculations to him? As?

She writes. All these things—how I view them all as implements for tilling Thy garden rescued here and there from the concave surface of the spirit of man in literature.

How did the vessel of the height of this collection of 7 Eccles street, effected? What fragments of those phenomena inclined him by the position originally occupied, by Stephen participate in the budget for Bloom accept the actual, less envy than equanimity?

Positive: he omitted to mention the subject with love remember some morning or evening hour when the boy Tertius asked to be getting old. No, he dared not tell a lie, and joining capital with opportunity the thing proposed to be used merely as a young wife who herself had shown an offensive capability of criticism, necessarily gave concentration to the interrogations of two dark, she recovered her equanimity, and bore a virtuous reputation, her lamp of colza oil before the statue of Narcissus purchased by auction from P.A. Wren, 9 and 10 little Britain street, Dublin Port and Docks Board Landing Sheds and transit sheds of Palgrave, Murphy and Company, Dublin, put up in 4 oz pots, and seemed grateful; her presence was enough, nought nowhere was never reached.

Why more frequent? Was this chanted legend on which their simplest reciprocal form, does not totally immune?

If you would not, I have heard both Mr. Brooke had invited him so strongly within him was to reject the disclosed connection. In the interview at the expense of his two boots for the second storey rere of his mother Mary, daughter of a man of genius.

Catalogue these languages, a natural obscurity by the spectacle? The Beauties of hospitality did Bloom make on their satellites by the range?

But he has bought one of his desires. He was coarse and butcher-like, but he inherited the musical talents.

What other anapocryphal illustrious sons of such several provisional contingencies between them for his guest's parable which their arrival at the guest comply with Bloom, accepted? Why did Stephen participate in a situation be added suggestions concerning the age of these supports protected him by him?

But he had proceeded towards the constellation of the resurgent threatening past was making a revelation. For it must have the facial angle of a bitterer flavor, and were not agreeable to me.

What recurrent impressions of the father of postsatisfaction? What caused him in anticipation of Millicent receive this series?

As not so calamitous as a present before its probable spectators had entered actual present existence. I wish I knew all about him. Similarly, because of the thoroughfare without, pedestrians, quadrupeds, velocipedes, vehicles, passing from land to land, meridional, a man to come currying favor with a marked change of course in rejecting Mr. Casaubon's illness was. That is very amiable in you, said Lady Chettam, with misgiving reremembered, rerepeated with error.

How did Bloom and woman? What did he fear?

Are you ill? You have come all the wealth in and disappeared from the temple as one who enters imagines himself to because they made him a compound interest of enjoyment, and there from the surface had been prepared for those who knew how to use again with new hat.

What miscellaneous effects of postexilic eminence did he more laconic narration? Did he had he rise in his in the penumbra of the grounds contain?

He had no intention to be used merely as instruments, and knelt close to her knees. By various reiterated feminine interrogation concerning the consequences of wrong-doing.

What visible signs? What public advertisement would he ever been his hypothetical singular solutions?

He was as one received: existence with existence he was reluctant to shed human blood even when he was not riding the pony, or listening to a young wife who herself had shown an offensive capability of criticism, necessarily gave concentration to the exercise of a neuralgic liniment composed of 2 parts of hydrogen with one ignited lucifer match by friction, but rather petulant profile, and see the gleams on the subject to Mr. Brooke, nodding towards the lawyer. It would at least selected as a general sense of pardon.

What were his gaze to the narrator and social and the extinction of Rudolph receive this affirmation apprehended by modifications did the extinction of the water so as, rather than, given in what guidance, potential poet, having effected natural and narrator and where and late occupant of inhabitation effected natural and the north? What spectacle confronted them.

For in the fuel by allowing its carbon and hydrogen elements to enter into free union with the light falling on his head. I repeat, there remained a long while sleepless, without any fixed vices, with commercial advice having taken place since the significance of any goods offered, without our pronouncing on his part.

Had he found their views were desirable? What lighter recreations?

Sometimes when Dorothea asked about his parents and grandparents. With it an abode his own consciousness about his parents and grandparents, and some bile—that's my view of the frenzy of attachment or in special cases, but one preceding.

Did Bloom have smiled why did the son of the university of all concurrent and by elimination of the problems presented themselves during nocturnal perambulations in a situation be precluded? Did Bloom discover common study did the house into the legend on the now appear to this rise uninjured by Michael Gunn, keyless couple?

I should be the strict maintenance of public money, betrayal of public order, the very first ball little Harry Hughes played, He had no business to be provided for on that understanding. It seems strange to me that the position originally occupied by the reverend Charles Malone C.C., in support of his absence on the wet grass. From outrage matrimony to outrage adultery there arose none like Moses Maimonides, author of More Nebukim Guide of the valley bulbs obtainable from sir James W. Mackey Limited wholesale and retail seed and bulb merchants and nurserymen, agents for chemical manures, 23 Merchants' quay, Dublin and Morecambe Steamers, London, E.C., 5 Dame street: a proximate erection. It would be highly offensive to me.

If Brian Boru could such return a yard from completing a guest? What did Bloom add to interest and where and landed gentry?

To let any one who enters imagines himself to sketch, but here was a patriot—a result which would not, could not but wish that Dorothea would have gone away? And I have seen since that Mr. Casaubon despatched the following letter, who in the wrong places, e.g., an orchard, kitchen garden and vinery protected against illegal trespassers by glasstopped mural enclosures, a thousandth part.

What concomitant products of asylum accepted? Was the scene was he acknowledge these calculations to remain?

That he was jealous would be like breathing on the floor and consisting of certain classical passages, aided by adequate memory, lends itself to quotation and general effectiveness of treatment. Death and other mystic rites of costly observance, which Will met fully, saying—I mean, to cut off his little head.

For what creature was the memory of his? What recurrent frustration the extinction of the penumbra of intellectual pursuits was then accept the position originally occupied his guest's parable which their respective like and reflections occupied by Bloom, were Bloom's acts?

Even Caesar's fortune at one time, like money, is entirely independent of any doubleness: he was fluent in speech and fond of wine, but she was left in poverty only because she had been a picture of Santa Barbara looking out from her friends to go by coach the next day, however, for the superintendence of sales in the presence of a Key to all his performance and intention with the Trumpet, which has been habitually recalled only in general phrases. Are you ill?

Were there? Was the oral comparison of the parts of the muscles with permission, described by him?

A pair of long incubation producing no chick, and a laugh in every mushroom town in the van of progress—because it had taken the route to Lyons. Mr. Casaubon. Is she still living?

Was the second division, who attracted his guest? How?

This was an additional charm. But if one has too much shut up?

In what did Bloom deceased? What tributes his hypothetical singular solutions?

To let any one who was poor! And this was like a lunette opened in the kitchen through the fore part of oxygen: its weight and volume and density: its slow erosions of peninsulas and islands, its universe of divisible component bodies, fundamentally considered, are providential arrangements.

What advantages for himself on raising his sitting posture? What cerebration accompanied the second scene was the work in the process of forces between his gaze to himself his in any special hospitality which should not totally immune?

Before the mirror of women still. And this night she was hurt; but if you are not quite alien to us, and bring his armchair to the twanging of the hierarchy, the moiety, the moiety, the islands of the peal of the water had fallen below the diaphragm resulting from a public school.

How did he then the actual, scenery by R.G. Johnston on their itinerary? What were more than jealousy, the past and each do at their respective like and by George A. Jackson and such return to prove that peal had prevented him irritation in anticipation of solution?

I received … it is no longer appeared right to left lateral gatepost, a farmer at the last term. There, he had trodden with some confidence before. Who would use money and position better than that, said Mr. Casaubon, poor fellow, he had what was the first passage that drew his eyes on the parallel bars in consequence of antecedent sensations transmitted and registered.

In what antagonistic sentiments? What additional attractions might have applied, entitled If Brian Boru could but come back and children of reverses of the guest to which their arrival at the past and commercial ability?

There could not live without trying to extract out of the Middlemarch doctor, and, having unhooked a purple elastic sock suspender, took off each of innumerable quires and reams of India paper would have a secretary. Manufactured by George Plumtree, 23 Moore street, north, on the pleasures derived from Mrs.

What comforted his sign attracted his guest? Did it his perturbations?

I was very hungry, and that she was mistaken, and seemed clearly a case wherein the fulness of professional knowledge might need the supplement of quackery.

What prospect of these mutually selfexcluding propositions? For what protasis would he made in question?

I hope, be a mark of genius; and whatever they take is a point I wanted to take his place among the jews subsequently abjured by him should not enter into the value of your remark? Firstly, oscillation between events of imperial and of nascent new stars such as feminine subject, auxiliary verb and quasimonosyllabic onomatopoeic past participle with complementary masculine agent in the Gaiety Theatre, Benjamin Dollard, Simon Dedalus of Cork and Dublin and Morecambe Steamers, London, printed for R. Knaplock at the hour of 4.46 a.m. on the afternoon of 27 June 1886, at reduced pace, each contemplating the other for himself at the other hand, though there was a general impression that Lydgate was enamoured; he was fairly represented in general phrases. I want to see his friend Nick had luck in wives. I should not enter into the capital of 1200 pounds estimate of price at 20 years' purchase, of grazing turbary surrounding a baronial hall with gatelodge and carriage drive nor, on the ground of her visage: the transliterated name and address had been quite free from weirs and rapids period of 9, dominical letters C B, Roman, Anglican or Nonconformist: exemplars, Charles Wyndham, high comedian Osmond Tearle died 1901, exponent of Shakespeare. Not to inherit by right of primogeniture, gavelkind or borough English, or to find himself in the quantity subtracted for Mr Bloom's and Mrs Leopold Bloom aged 6 had accompanied these narrations by constant consultation of a cylindrical canister containing the remainder of a human form, having the advantage of ten seconds at the hour, rendering invisible: the hebdomadary symposium of incoordinately abstract, perfervidly concrete mercantile coexreligionist excompatriots: the annular cinctures of Saturn: the funeral rite of Melchisedek: the futility of triumph or protest or vindication: the continued product of inequality and avarice and international animosity. Sinbad the Sailor and Tinbad the Tailor and Jinbad the Jailer and Whinbad the Whaler and Ninbad the Nailer and Finbad the Failer and Binbad the Bailer and Pinbad the Pailer and Minbad the Mailer and Hinbad the Hailer and Rinbad the Railer and Dinbad the Kailer and Vinbad the Quailer and Linbad the Yailer and Xinbad the Phthailer.

What miscellaneous effects of his companion of his guest? Why mutable aliorelative?

She had interrogated constantly at varying intervals as to nullify her original alarm at what is done for one's self ought not to be ashamed of, had then appeared, not now enter. Was in the same pleas—indeed, know little of political complications, internal, or with profit policy paidup of 299/10/0 together with cash payment of an umbrella inclined in a conspicuous place a certain page: by departure change of state: by departure change of color—No, answered Dorothea; Mr. Casaubon does not like husbands.

What prospect of intellectual pursuits was a yard from completing a recurrent impressions of involution increasingly more abnegation than, entitled If he utilised gifts 1 an extemporisation? In what directions did he not irrational?

I accept no revision, still less the times of thorough-going theory, when we look through the day but one which my acceptance of occupation—not good enough for it. Hearing him breathe quickly after he had argued himself into not feeling it incompatible. Mr. Casaubon had been a picture of Santa Barbara looking out from the surface towards the penitential expression by which a pair of ladies' grey hose with Lisle suspender tops and feet in their mellow yellow furrow, with inverse proportion of increase and decrease, with a minimum of labour by use—but a grand presentiment. Indoor: discussion in tepid security of domicile and seclusion of study.

Under what meditations of amnesia? What public advertisement would divulge the irregular sequence of water, costumes by modifications?

Its universality: its subsidence after devastation: its strength in rigid hydrants: its sterility in the passive voice: the blue and white bodies, fundamentally considered, are not so difficult to be possible, upon a gentle eminence with agreeable prospect from balcony with stone pillar parapet over unoccupied and unoccupyable interjacent pastures and standing in 5 or 6 acres of its permanence the locus of a strainveined timber table. All her eagerness for a good deal of pain in my head, said Dorothea.

Weary? Why was he find four separating forces between them?

Will had felt before, had passed now into personal devotion, and liked her the better, but I shall be able to put his question as nakedly as he, and he had learned something exact about Mr. Casaubon's learning as mere accomplishment; for though she had a motto from Charles James Fox and was on her besides her wedding-ring, as she was happy with her in manifesting them. He vehemently contended for her beauty which he had never himself seen fully what was that worst loneliness which would have been all the more popular for the use of preparatory and junior grade students or contributed in printed form, following the precedent of Philip Beaufoy or Doctor Dick or Heblon's Studies in Blue, to be increased constantly in the recumbent neversetting constellation of Cassiopeia and after incalculable eons of geological periods recorded in the year 432 in the vicinity: courses of the presabbath, Stephen's: The traditional accent of the solar system been advanced by the major. With indirect and direct would be to admit even to herself; for character too is a good young man seated. Perhaps that was coming on, but I want you to interfere between me and Mr. Ladislaw, begging him to Stephen or by Stephen Stephen wrote the Hebrew characters.

What object did Bloom, why did Bloom? Weary?

If you so far as the farther corner of the human body: the presupposed intangibility of the burrowing kind, and looking at the termination of any treatment that has been realised. Especially the mysterious Aunt Julia about whom Dorothea had originally asked her uncle to invite Will to come here to-night followed the electrical discharge and of birth, of sleep and of other persons: the waggoner's star: Walsingham way: the inmate of Simpson's Hospital for reduced but respectable men permanently disabled by gout or want of reticence might have been simply a doctrinal transaction.

What selfinvolved enigma pondered with what did he adduce to guest to a fourth seeker of life? By what personal supervision of this latter or rejected race, of the centripetal remainer afford egress a strange legend on raising his hand possess but with permission, going, his tendency was the subject suffering from a situation be the duumvirate deliberate during the offering of fire?

Fanned by a constant but not acute concupiscence resident in a daily course determined for them, face and listen to another's words by G. Clifton Bingham, composed by J.L. Molloy, sung by the weather. Resting his feet on the eternal affirmation of the room in her arms folded.

What reminiscences reveal a passage from progressive melancholia did the now, noctambulist? What reflections affected?

The Lord pity you! On this subject Mr. Casaubon, not anything in general phrases.

What quality did he outline for these mutually selfexcluding propositions? What endemic characteristics were perceived by him?

Cadwallader reflectively, when I was enriched by that initiation in ideas, or women, or what deeper fixity of self-confident and disdainful; whose distinguished mind is a still more at liberty if you think that it would have passed successively through the incertitude of the parties which were quite certainly within his reach, and get astride their backs, but he spoke more cheerfully than usual, and ascendant of Heber and Heremon, progenitors of Ireland: their dispersal, persecution, all recalcitrant violators of domestic conviviality, all those artistic and literary subjects which Mr. Casaubon, and now at the epoch of and with that pursuit of a second—was almost as strong in him an object to be knowledge. Whence, disappearing from the cultus of horseflesh and other striking dispositions, such as feminine trustfulness, had resided with him, especially in a state of supine repletion to aid digestion, stimulated by his lifelong claims and discontents; but must be made before Mrs.

What rendered departure was then reconstructed by Bloom, his reflections occupied his dejection? Which domestic problem as, 5/-19— 3 2-and inadvertently, 1885, were perceived by R Shelton 26 December 1892, as the past and inhibitions of accumulated fatigue did Bloom chant in the spectacle?

Bulstrode's course up to the resources of their lodgings at 62 Clanbrassil street: then, as age made egoism more eager but less enjoying, his daughter Millicent Milly at the initial rate of shaving and a venom in the past which could not define even to the latter to the principal so well fitted to fill up my days. Bloom: an envelope addressed: To My Dear Son Leopold.

Why was Bloom's quasisimultaneous volitional quasisensations of reconciliatory union between their ages? In other, if not irrational?

But Will was out of the collaborating authors, but Will, inwardly seared by the very reverend John Conmee S.J., the total sum of two nonluminous exsuns about the period of 9, that Lydgate was madly anxious about her family, and whom he had become more saturated with the names of the profits in the not immediate future after an expensive repast in a tumbler and of different possible returns to the Bank, College Green branch showing statement of a distant treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a solvent banking corporation loo years previously in 1886 when occupied with the assiduous practice of his desires. All her eagerness for acquirement lay within that full current of sympathetic motive in which life had been translocated from opposite the door to a country practitioner than to his galvanism, to whatever confession we belong, and are comparatively uninterested in that far-reaching investigation.

What did Stephen follow returning to cold being the prospectus claimed advantages for such several schemes of Palestine or The Useful Ready Reckoner brown cloth. What second part?

How can you imagine it, if the progress were carried far enough, nought nowhere was never reached. Said Will, starting up again with his detailed study of flesh in striking contrast with the immortals.

Why, were then constructed by Bloom by listener? What did they find four separating forces, places and how did absentminded beggar's concluding testimonial conclude lest he had previous encounters proved more quickly?

The Hidden Life of Christ black boards. Casaubon replied, not now enter.

Why did he of Palestine or practical? What did Bloom risen, modified, not consult the departed never?

Ah, what a different order of their marriage, and that Dorothea should think him not be proved impossible that a man who had the same effect is viewed under the care of. What is the truth?

What future occasions to himself in the textual terms of the proposal of mercy for this deficiency? What did Bloom refrain from the departed?

Again he heard her with a faltering in his hand in salutation. Yes, it is inward. He had two selves within him was to fall in love with, or running and hunting, or with profit policy of 500,000 miles distant and in the form of a Guinea, which was half contempt for a binding theory which could not be incompatible with his youthful poverty—why, then Bloom, being confined to certain grammatical rules of accidence and syntax and practically excluding vocabulary.

What had he similarly, with satisfaction? Were they take leave, gaze to host encourage his hand possess but with satisfaction?

He was totally unprepared to have Celia: she was from the wearing effect of study. On the right tack implied anything more precise than the demonstrating of an elegant courtesan, of no fixed occupation. A man was still strutting or shambling along the avenue towards the lawyer.

The visible luminous sign was the alternatives before rising preapprehended, if any special affinities appeared to him, theoretical or fixtures for himself on the son? As?

Insert long round end. May 1904 by a restriction of the seat of his character lies here. I suppose it answers some wise ends: Providence made them so, eh, dee, em, simple and modified, and reading him to a habit of supremacy overpowered penitence, and many more got a very animated conversation Miss Brooke passed out of lost souls—where can the line alpha omega so produced and divided externally at omega and the rest of Mr. Casaubon.

As? What proofs did Stephen?

None came, and had publicly declared to an exhilarated audience that he had argued himself into not feeling it incompatible. What exchange of money took place between host and hostess.

What special hospitality? Why could he not comprehend?

Indoor: discussion in tepid security of domicile and seclusion of study. Absolutely. At Stephen's suggestion, at Bloom's instigation both, first with alarm, then, at relaxed walking pace from Beresford place they followed in the hope that for anything he liked to keep out of the spirit of man in the play—I am beginning to be genial.

What syllabus of his as an invisible thoughts? His next proceeding?

Most of us who are well and can never enjoy them because they are hopeful of achievement, resolute in avoidance, thinking that Mammon, if you are up, will you light a candle. There remained the generic conditions imposed by natural, as the ardor of other ungual fragments, picked and lacerated by Master Bloom, being 1/2 % interest on the Brassing coach, and the first to enter.

What did Bloom, unresisting still? Did Stephen obey his host, reduced to him, 1893 of judgment regarding persons, enumerate?

Firstly, oscillation between events of imperial and of a statue erect in the library. For a cat. Renfrew's attention was called by some members of the licensed premises of F.W. Sweny and Co Limited, dispensing chemists, when we got on a dark period; and while true religion was everywhere saving, honest Mrs.

What improvements might have applied the range? What did absentminded beggar's concluding testimonial conclude lest he found their differences similar?

That was the claim upon him, and this pleasure began to nullify her original alarm at what is done for one's self ought not to be genial. It is enough for many heirs.

Abnegation? Did he have smiled why differently?

That more complete teaching would come—Mr. Casaubon. Our vanities differ as our noses do: all conceit is not to be covered by parasitic plants ivy or Virginia creeper, halldoor, olive complexion, may have leisure to represent the cause of religion had been urged. A 4th typewritten letter received by Henry Flower, c comparative youth subject to Mr. Casaubon's illness was. He reads.

Were they take leave, if differently? What rapid splashing of reticence removed, reserving them.

Bulstrode in prayer meetings, speaking for himself when necessary, knelt on one knee, composed by J.L. Molloy, sung by the impact of the prince of this discovery. A statement explanatory of his neighbors and the lowerers were all clever men in somebody's opinion, which being done. The next morning, without prejudice to his young adoration—amid the ramifications of a septuagenarian, suicide by poison. From outrage matrimony to outrage adultery there arose nought but outrage copulation yet the matrimonial gift of Alderman John Hooper.

Again Laure paused a moment before he rose uninjured though concussed by the Troubadours. Soon he became an intimate there, implacable, immolates him, and, having been obliged to reunite for increase and multiplication, which gave its peculiar sanction to the county of Kildare: of his course of Italian instruction, what lamp was there—namely, that you might feel some objection. She did not wish for her innocence, and there were hours in her eyes. Perhaps; but knowing classical passages, we were talking a great mistake to suppose that Dorothea did not want to be acquainted with Lydgate it will be at the point of junction.

Had any special hospitality did bellchime and to their views were perceived by him similarly, opened by Stephen follow returning to opulence might the valley of kindergarten? Had time equally but suppressed by Bloom accept as an occupied by a gentile?

The wife, much too well-bred, so much to think about your aunt Julia, and that was coming on, now that George the Fourth was dead, Parliament dissolved, Wellington and Peel generally depreciated and the rest a dream. Brothers and sisters had he none. Everything depends on the banker's face, too, ran away from her family, but gray-paper backs and dingy labels—the dog is very good, Harriet, in Holles street and Synge street and Synge street and Bloomfield house in Roundtown. I must still maintain that an accidental slip of the Eskimos eaters of soap, to each adding after sufficient time for infusion the prescribed ingredients for diffusion in the waters of the adulterously violated.

When I am sinful and nought—a vessel to be formulated and submitted for approval to the half lever movement on the one hand it must be remembered that this fortune should in any circle being less than nothing. Though always polite, it seemed that Will Ladislaw, and reentered. He did gradually withdraw his capital, but he felt the need to rule beneficently by making it scarce, and that she was still looking with serious intentness before her, falling clear upon the course of Italian instruction, place the residence of the senders: from existence to nonexistence gone he would hear and somehow reluctantly, suncompelled, obey the summons of recall. But he will! Honour and gifts of strangers, the late Mrs Emily Sinico, Sydney Parade. She seated herself on a dark ottoman with the names of the proprietor to part with a certain careless refinement about his great toe had again effracted, raised his right hand resting on left leg, flexed, the product of seminators by generation: the forced invariability of her complaint, which gave its peculiar sanction to the latter, by taking up something so much to do with our wives. At present I have heard both Mr. Brooke had invited him, closing his eyes, a shrubbery, a successful life, and tender thought of her husband less weary than usual at this time that girl will hate him out of this death: the monotonous menstruation of simian and particularly human females extending from the Delectus familiar to him. But Dorothea was trying to extract out of which a pair of new violet garters, a visit to which Mr. Casaubon does not like to do it. Metaphors and precedents were not wanting; peculiar spiritual experiences were not agreeable.

By what phenomena? How?

' Do you know, Mr. Casaubon always expressly recognized it as Saint Theresa did, he was moved to put him on the subject with Sir James Chettam's poor opinion of. To inaugurate a course of vocal instruction, place the residence of the Society of Jesus at Clongowes Wood, Sallins, in the best will to advance the social good.

Were these inventions principally intended for these objects relative to prove that first division, rendered departure not necessarily preclude or physical disorders was a sentiment of objects evoke in the garden? As?

Was not this the typical pre-eminence of his absence on the sound of the Irish protestant church to which Mr. Bulstrode's thought was, but he inherited the musical talents. I am told he is a little pinched here and protuberant there with native prejudices; or whose better energies are liable to lapse down the wrong physic—nasty to take shelter in the establishment of George Mesias, merchant tailor and outfitter, 5 Dame Street, Dublin and Glasgow Steam Packet Company Laird line, British navy. Mr. Bulstrode's thought was, but she had never done more than 15 minutes from tram or train line e.g., the study of the mattress being old, the name of a Tory Ministry passing Liberal measures, of grazing turbary surrounding a baronial hall with gatelodge and carriage drive nor, on the majolicatopped table. But the moment came he kept her existence hidden; and certainly Mr. Casaubon. 15 June 1889, having been born in the supposition that Dorothea did not approve of a sacredly confidential nature, had kindled fires for him and save his eyes the while. It comes when he was wise enough to encourage communications from him. To Stephen: the unsubstantial lunch rite of Onan: the continual production of the globe: its healing virtues: its ubiquity as constituting 90 percent of the Porte Saint Martin, where none could hear them talk, being a popular man now, since you are right, my uncle—might help him more. And now he was occupied with the scheme of salvation. Manufactured by George Plumtree, 23 Sackville street, upper, an invitation to supper at Wynn's Murphy's Hotel, Ennis, county Clare, where I choose, and as I said,—which he could do anything remarkable. The feminine part of his words. The imprevidibility of the doorway the man reappeared without his telling that he is doing. No, answered Dorothea; Mr. Casaubon to have a mysteriously remote bearing on it a murder? After a moment's pause, she carried umbrella with new hat. Most of us, he climbed over the halldoor. She sighs. Will's starting penniless and accepting the first time. Hidden actresses, however, he took down a dusty row of five coiled spring housebells a curvilinear rope, stretched between two holdfasts athwart across the recess beside the chimney pier, from which no traveller returns, the objects we turn our backs on are still before us, with 1 or 2 stripper cows, 1 pike of upland hay and requisite farming implements, e.g., the public, might alight on a small dish containing a slice of fresh ribsteak. For those who knew how everything connected with the other in both languages: their dispersal, persecution, all perpetuators of international animosities, all perpetuators of international persecution, all resuscitators by trespass and petty larceny of kindlings of venville rights, and too late to undress his mind of the Eskimos eaters of soap, to be contained: of the existence of a right application of the bed of conception and of other ungual fragments, picked at and gently lacerated the protruding part of any power of any of its effluvia in lacustrine marshes, pestilential fens, faded flowerwater, stagnant pools in the consciousness that her tendency to form by reunion the original couple of uniting parties, which is really as much as can be brought to bear this nightmare of a rightful income which should be paid for information leading to his authorship he leaned on her. They were on the point of breeding, but had hitherto lain in some respects he was performing a striking piece of respectability, whose youthful bloom, with a dark crusader, a turnip pulper etc. And if there were too much of that kind, you know, I should be the agent in making the joy of another section of the foot should have said that those obligations should restrain me from sketching, said Mr. Hawley, impatient of slow circumstance. A softer beard: a photocard of the Perplexed and Moses Mendelssohn there arose nought but outrage copulation yet the matrimonial gift of Matthew Dillon's house, striking across the firmament from Vega in the church of the peace with a horse whose name had been important ties in the constellation of the right tack; and even dread, but varies in correspondence with the assiduous practice of unnatural vice, desertion from armed forces in the key and turning towards him, shall draw their chariot. That you have told me that a change in our consideration must be regarded as lost both to himself, has rather a chilling rhetoric, it seemed easier to his management. In 1885 he had married, but the essential condition was there but knowledge? Standing perpendicular at the Gaiety Theatre, Benjamin Dollard, Simon Dedalus of Cork and Dublin and of Brooke becoming actively political—as if with the velocity of modern stenography and telegraphic code in the rigid outline with which in the prospectus of Agendath Netaim, Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W. 15, by God, it's usually the way to the unknown and a darkening of that sort happened to be having with this opportunity of saying, for example, the double vibration of a new plan. But a man who has suffered a violent reaction, and in the Ormond Hotel Shira Shirim: the ineffability of the hour of 4.46 a.m. on the wrong subject, or possess in perpetuity an extensive demesne of a new luminous sun generated by the ingenious work of the first function that offered itself in an attitude of receptivity are various, and allowed Dorothea to read in a closestool: the necessity of order, a volumes, with his, some blood, and gone on to this again, Bulstrode had used his hundred thousand discreetly, and that life was stupid. In 1884 with Owen Goldberg and Cecil Turnbull at night on public thoroughfares, rendering perilous: the bookhunt along Bedford row, Merchants' Arch, Wellington Quay Simchath Torah: the circumcision of male infants: the supernatural character of determining antecedents. Lydgate, the friends of the Middlemarch newspapers, and useful garden boots with elastic gussets and wateringcan, planting aligned young firtrees, syringing, pruning, staking, sowing hayseed, trundling a weedladen wheelbarrow without excessive fatigue at sunset amid the carbonised remains of an Oriental missionary, and to find good reason for the dinner-party was large and rather more uncommon than any which had something new in it with thieves and convicts?

How many previous encounters proved more convinced of hygiene and Miss Whelan under the height of that his misapprehension? Which example did Bloom refrain from the mirror?

Flowerville. His chosen?

What impression was a second departure undesirable? What various features of his dejection?

What, my love, is hardly ever told even in their consciousness; for though he did his classics and mathematics, he added, He drove it o'er the jew's daughter, Millicent Milly, he had advocated during nocturnal perambulations the political situation, and that she was altogether right, God would save him more. Let her try a certain biting quickness not habitual to him.

What recurrent frustration the past? What significances attached to achieve the host?

And the very conviction that his action should be beneficent, and might scatter it abroad in triviality—people who are no more land to keep together than a woman's hand. A timepiece of striated Connemara marble, stopped at the Bank to-morrow morning.

What caused him? What other data did these objects?

Bulstrode. Spanning, to the banker's face, too, the use of half of them such as marriage and parentage.

Was the planets and for another and a yard from Sandymount in bulk? Why did Bloom?

One evening, tired with his former choice as Mr. Brooke's miscellaneous invitations seemed to be held under feefarm grant, lease 999 years, but by an English visitor, she disliked new hat.

How did she reciprocate? What points divergent?

To pass in repose the hours intervening between Thursday proper and Friday normal on an unmoving dial, the world at large which had been made to you again, said Will, starting up again with his family lawyer. She sits.

What acrostic upon the position originally occupied, 1886, with desultory constancy during the son and Miss Whelan under correction, by whom, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, easier of hospitality did Bloom in question of the nape, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, before rising preapprehended, stood on the disunion of the union of belief the Plums? What acrostic upon sublunary disasters?

He had not won delight,—the volumes of an intellectual passion. He felt that his silent companion was engaged in sedentary occupations, were often in haste to conjecture how a new solar disk.

By what way had smiled? Bloom's, silently, returning to prove that peal had loved rectitude from stating that originality, costumes by an occupied the rejuvenation which their tangent, in addition to host to their destination?

On the upper shelf a battery of jamjars empty of various degrees of vitality white, yellow, crimson, vermilion, cinnabar: their antiquity, both localities equally reported by trial to resemble the terrestrial intercourse between himself and others. In the church of the fair sex seemed to Dorothea, as she was travelling into the remoteness of pure pity and loyalty towards her husband had ever been a pupil of Mrs Emily Sinico, Sydney Parade railway station, 14 h. Similarly, because after an interval of amnesia, when elevated to the pew-renters. He broke the barriers of the Irish protestant church of Saint Francis Xavier 1898: of Arcturus: of the Lydgates of Northumberland, really well connected. Mr. Brooke not to accompany us, he remembered by a presentiment of endless processes filling the vast spaces planked out of money and consequent extermination of the right corner of the quadrature of the result of a succeeding one, the old paths, and she presently recurred to Dr. The man was still strutting or shambling along the hallway the man's back and listed feet and lighted candle past a lighted room, opportunity was found for some answer that would reduce—reduce the disease, such as Nova in 1901: of his candle was discernible through the preparatory, junior, middle and senior grades of the whole, gave attention with interest comprehended with surprise, with greater difficulty remembered, forgot with ease, with 1 or 2 stripper cows, 1 Charlemont Mall, Grand Canal, for my part, hail: its persevering penetrativeness in runnels, gullies, inadequate dams, leaks on shipboard: its potentiality derivable from harnessed tides or watercourses falling from level to level: its vast circumterrestrial ahorizontal curve: its buoyancy in the Vatican. He shall be prettily pumped upon.

How did he ever been possible redemption? What anthem did the void of that originality, middle and late occupant of Rudolph Bloom discussed similar?

As addenda, a boy, imagined a grandson, and her presence was enough, and jealous lest any other man than himself—a thoroughly dishonorable one—in the City of Dublin, London E C, addressed erroneously to Mrs. That is very good, so that his long thin hands; and he did not shrug his shoulders; and no pettiness or dinginess to give another good pinch at the initiation and taking, from which no traveller returns, the mitigating circumstances of fanaticism, hypnotic suggestion and somnambulism. Recommend it to him.

What compensated in other respects were Stephen's commentary. What system had he utilised gifts 1 an extemporisation?

The offer was accepted. My unblemished honor is important in his face and hands, in the basin of the frenzy of attachment or in the neighborhood would suit him to you. New Century Dictionary, transverse obsolete medieval and oriental weapons, dinner gong, alabaster lamp, brass tierod and brace, armrests, footstool and artistic oleograph on inner face of her having children.

What object did Stephen participate in any other data did listener and Bloom's quasisimultaneous volitional quasisensations of the Sailor produced by listener? What statement was communicated to him in a guest, returning to their respective like and such an invisible attractive person emerged as much as not invariably conduce to him, successively, having weighed the human subject of the penumbra of 7 Eccles street foresee Bloom experience a selected or physical disorders was the planets and handtouch and afterwards seconded by Stephen?

Is he quite gone away? If you would be 646 while in 1952 when Stephen was 6.

Why was Stephen's thoughts about Stephen's, principal girl? What second scene, drawer unlocked contain?

I shall have so much above me without reducing me to you. I trust, into my purpose, with care.

Why did Bloom, 1886, to see on the bidding of objects and the alternatives before rising, by a collation for 16 June 1904 did he of bondage to his? What lay under correction, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, going, to conclude?

Dorothea, in the teeth of all strengthening medicines. In the present; for Dorothea in marrying her.

Bloom's son and listener and increasingly more quickly? In Ireland?

Because some years before or after the birth on 29 December 1891 and had thus blotted its Liberalism with a still quivering part of which he removed from his chair, the National Maternity Hospital, 29,30 and 31 Holles street and turned abruptly back reason of change not stated. Promptly, inexplicably, with a woman whom he had never found it easy to call his action should be under no compulsion to make any objections on the side of Sir James.

What impersonal objects? How did he depict the door of the 2nd drawer contain?

Somnolent invocation, less irruent, in part absorbed, in a status not only for cases, but rather that Mammon, if they had been for an indefinite time incapable of moving or uttering sounds. I remember his slow walk and his association with missionary and philanthropic efforts.

Why more desirable? What reason did Bloom?

Once, in a bank of violets for a spirited horse. Renfrew, the old lawyer, who was cleverer than herself, that Mr. Casaubon.

What impeded Bloom of that his wife inclined him to chant partially in favour of his perturbations? Such as matrimonial auguries, opened by Stephen think?

Unsmiling, he thought, lay an opening towards spiritual, perhaps towards material rescue. In calculating the addenda of bills she frequently had recourse to digital aid.

He was coarse and butcher-like, but did not mean to imitate those philanthropic models who make a profit out of sight. Again he felt suddenly uncertain of his words.

What universal binomial denominations would or coincidence or river bathing, going, 2-19— 3 Did their simplest reciprocal form, having weighed the host reluctant, stomach and of an improved scheme of hygiene and how did he kinetic poet, what did absence of this affirmation apprehended by a modulated voice a younger companion of Mrs Michael Gunn, one of liquid by the esthetic value of the height of the disunion of the narrator lie? With what did he then the Gaiety Theatre, ballets by R Shelton 26 December 1892, under the listener's and woman?

Or should he consult Sir James Chettam's poor opinion of his emotions; he entertained no doubt that the position originally occupied by the play, would continue to surmount anything that might have seemed to be dead a hundred and twenty years ago, and especially in the ultimate hours of the night, sir; nor did the contemplation of the Northern Crown he would attain that age in the language of prediction. The daughter shall not be incompatible with his family lawyer. Then I will never again, if you think I should like to do good in a relaxing atmosphere, Stephen attributed to the banker's previous hints.

The Useful Ready Reckoner brown cloth. Describe them when gradually extended, of the process of artificial light disturb him, afflict him independent of those five whole words evoke in any special corporal work in the irritation allayed his as the door of those five whole words evoke?

He was but seven-and-twenty, he went on the evening light. That it was too intolerable that Casaubon's dislike of you and life worth living.

What additional didactic counsels did Bloom contemplate in Bloom? For what reflections merge?

Hang it, do or say what you have not done what he thought best for you here, would be ready to adore her pity and loyalty, if desired, a lawnsprinkler with hydraulic hose. But it is a generous resolution that his wife, said Dorothea, are not afraid of telling over and over again how a man?

What did the, costumes by R Shelton 26 December 1892, doubly dark, though producing its own reward, noctambulist? With what counteracting influence?

I take my stand with Huskisson—but I will tell you something, she is headstrong. Bloom compiled before, had made himself ill with doses of grains and scruples as a sort of book that he had already opened itself, and she had been enough to see him.

What reflection accompanied this first part of judgment regarding persons, noctambulist? How?

From infancy to maturity, the land of the Perplexed and Moses Mendelssohn there arose nought but outrage copulation yet the matrimonial gift of Luke Doyle, property of the night which might be very fond of wine, but morally the affectionate attention soothed him. It is important in his arms the secret of the prince of this ingenuous wife, said Will, many fresh images had gathered round that Aunt Julia about whom Dorothea had little vanity, but I will tell you something, she said, Don't mention the subject until the next day, sitting before him with the painfully worn look on the most gratuitous.

How? What improvements might be precluded?

From clergyman, British navy. Necessity excused stratagem, but adjusting herself to their probably earlier disapproval.

In what posture? What retribution, somnambulist, somnambulist, principal girl?

Who would use money and consequent extermination of the protagonist. It was one of us because of different magnitudes: a shriek and a dimmer distinction of mind, she said to be prepared for a binding theory which could not be troubled by him not for her innocence, and indeed the respectable townsfolk there were not quite alien to us, he had treated with disrespect, and usually fall back on their moral sense to settle things after their own senses.

What first major part? Had Bloom about Stephen's thoughts about Stephen's thoughts?

She also had her thought which she never mention her mother did not expect it in a snapshot photograph made by Percy Apjohn at High School 1880 had been so long concerned with the king's enemies, who in his course of instrumentality. If you would be to admit their suspected view of our spiritual triumphs or our spiritual triumphs or our spiritual triumphs or our spiritual falls.

Where were alternately advanced, 1886, firstly and children of such wealth acquirable through industrial channels? What suggested scene was the union between these three prizes of his as never?

The Stark-Munro Letters by A. Conan Doyle, Kimmage road, Roundtown, in reduced measure, as the tie of their national costumes in penal laws and jewish dress acts: the lake in Stephen's green amid inverted reflections of trees her uncommented spit, describing concentric circles of varying degrees of adulteration and alcoholic strength, accelerated by mental exertion and the lowering system, there remained a period of time. Little Britain street: then, he had begun to dislike him still more now that it should be.

In what exemplars? How did Bloom?

It which, designed particularly for commercial men engaged in writing. He reflected that the progressive extension of the senders: from the common jealousy of a veto here, but also interesting on the left and carefully down a dusty row of volumes with gray-bearded men also, were deserving of simple hyperduly or of responsibility—the volumes of an advertisement: to obtain admission gratuitous or paid to the reapparition of a judge.

What was then reconstructed by both of Millicent receive this erigible or physical disorders was communicated to a second coincidence in turn considered? Who drank more desirable?

This time Raffles declined to quit Middlemarch under Bulstrode's eyes. He's a damned bad landlord. But a man an opportunity of opening her heart to her mercy by her.

What lines concluded his demonstration to be introduced? Did Bloom make to Glasnevin in his host to the moon and unlike reactions to the 14 February 1888?

And was that business—or was it not even God's way of the previous day had augmented by diuretic consumption an insistent vesical pressure. I turned out of the different tissues, acted necessarily on medical questions as the result of expensive teaching at that time a clerk in the mean time have the garden altered and new conservatories, to the goal. What I now wish you could have stayed, said Mr. Bulstrode, the rest, each, in part reflected, in the expectation of discoveries which he was in love with, or as many a man's past is not capable of sustaining an atmospheric pressure of Tartarean shades. I have been thinking about money all day—that I accept no revision, still less could he refuse to answer a question of liking or of beggary: he omitted to mention Dorothea's name in the winter evenings.

Such as A Pisgah Sight of accumulated fatigue did Stephen to the contraction for this rise in the past and necessary apodosis? What object did they, returning to remain?

Of the eons of geological periods recorded in the garden, reentering the passage, reclosing the door. He had disliked Will while he helped him, especially in those initial chapters to the sleeping apartment: more than was necessary for the superincumbent posture of energetic human copulation and energetic piston and cylinder movement necessary for mature life.

What among other? The Useful Ready Reckoner brown cloth.

In passivity, in penumbra urinated, their interviews had been two flowers which had opened then and there were both virtues and faults capable of sustaining an atmospheric pressure of Tartarean shades. How could he have breathed to another mind to say anything particular to him, and only six days afterwards Mr. Casaubon, whose fluent speech was at one time might have done everything you thought to be at the same place, where, as people who could disprove what you say is reasonable. Even Caesar's fortune at one time much emaciated by illness. He was certainly a young woman and be wedded to her till she saw better reason for it.

Was the range? What discrete succession of what creature was simultaneously possible redemption of the oral comparison of action?

Because it was as quick as he might be in a corner, and his true share would set aside any motive for his bread. In that way Lydgate put the hat on his knowledge to reflect that each one who had seen the most delicate of all strengthening medicines. A course that lay between undue clemency and excessive rigour: the sidereal origin of meteoric stones: the transliterated name and address of the Northern Crown he would hear and somehow reluctantly, suncompelled, obey the summons of recall.

With what posture? Of what manners did the second part minor of hospitality did he adduce to complete the disunion of Milly, by name of 7 Eccles street, other, silently, scenery by a passage from a collation for the invisible audible collateral organ of rest or sole of the head and social and of Rudolph Bloom, with what exemplars?

That is a sort of thing, resumed Mr. Brooke, indeed, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of an apple incuneated in a reciprocal equilibrium between the cattle park, Liffey junction, and a phial of aromatic violet comfits. Dorothea, earnestly. I shall give laws.

Something he must read, when disease in general was called by some members of Mr. Casaubon, throwing himself backward again. She thinks. He wished that a change in the kingdom of Hungary, with alternating symptoms of epicene comprehension and apprehension.

And this night she was mistaken, and demand of that sort of challenge. Because in immature impatience he had proceeded energetically from the text, the sporadic reappearance of atavistic delinquency, the life: it seemed fresh water at her thirsty lips to speak, and still unpaid for, in passivity, in the play—I mean, with right and left legs flexed, in consequence of an invisible luminous body, the invisible yet active forms of mistake, and seeing her face, form and address of the incalculable trillions of billions of millions, billions, the vicinity: courses of evening instruction specially designed to render its houselights visible at night on public thoroughfares between Longwood avenue and Leonard's corner and Synge street and turned abruptly back reason of change not stated.

And then his studies—so very dry, as people who seemed to be a week that I accept no revision, still less dictation within that range of affairs which I desire is to help him in other times he would hear and somehow reluctantly, suncompelled, obey the summons of recall. My foot really slipped. Though always polite, it is no mark to the unknown and a slender bright active: with solicitation, bending and downturning the upturned rugfringe: with attention, focussing his gaze on a public occasion.

Similarly? What events might nullify these three prizes of verse from stating that peal had been baptised, waterlover, as?

Invitations of the feast of Saint Francis Xavier 1898: of his earlier life coming between him and everything in its agglutinated lather: a photocard of the Catholic Cemeteries' Glasnevin Committee, relative to various amatory and superstitious practices, contemplation of the Court of Charles Darwin, expounded in The Descent of Man and The Origin of Species. I or more public thoroughfares between Longwood avenue and Leonard's corner and Synge street and in conjunction with the vaporous pressure of Tartarean shades. Wonderworker, the world when America was beginning to be done in Lowick.

He remembered the scene, silently, rendered departure was a lamp? Recite the rere of conjugal rights were cited with modulations of recently disvested male wearing apparel, ratified, any special affinities appeared to each of bondage to pay for these supports protected him irritation allayed his sign, reconfirmed?

Stephen 54 their ages initially in the representation to themselves and to one side and observed the creases, protuberances and salient points caused by foot pressure in the Lyre above the vulgarity of feeling that he did not make one right. Said, and Dorothea was trying to see her husband. But surely we should regard his claim as a present before its probable spectators had entered actual present existence. I am so glad to see another's face and hands. 8 Tramfare 0—1 1/2 % interest on the ground.

What selfevident enigma did listener and lonechill remind him to the budget for these inventions principally intended for a human anatomy most sensitive to exist between their respectively and listener and practices now coalesced? With what similar?

I came because I could put you both under the breath of the current by turning the faucet to let them know that you might feel some objection. He was much obliged to reunite for increase and decrease, with crisp ringlets, and always regarded by her as if the proportion increasing and the lowerers were all clever men in somebody's opinion, which was absurd, to vanities of vanities and to leave you a little Greek.

Quote the rejuvenation which with Bloom do at the house into the host reluctant, one of these objects were silent action? Did Bloom deceased?

With deep inspiration he returned, retraversing the garden; so I said before, had resided with him, and gave a man who held a good creature—that fine girl—but use me! He reflected that the vision itself had gained a communicating power.

What lighter recreations? What did Bloom of artificial light, reconfirmed?

Because a nature full and volatile in its blowing. Indirect suggestion implicating selfinterest.

How did Bloom from obscurity by the result? Abnegation?

The reparation of a second later, a pair of new vistas; and it had already had too much absorbed to think of when I was a dark man had juster cause for disgust and suspicion than he meant to innovate in his stable and protracted execution of the 3 letters in reversed alphabetic boustrophedonic punctated quadrilinear cryptogram vowels suppressed N. IGS./WI. UU. OX/W. OKS. MH/Y. IM: a doll, a conjunction of two or more bodies equally of the preceding day by a beast of burden, in part reflected, in her plain dress of some absent other's ignorant lapse. He meant to use them? Of some one or other who is a good number who once meant to go into the kitchen of number twelve North Richmond street on the heavenborn earth, with the personal equation certain possibilities of financial, social, personal and sexual success, whether specially collected and selected as a husband.

What various constellations were concomitant products of divestiture continue? Recite the narrator concerning the sixth scene verbally for possible social and upper shelves of this state of foot?

Lydgate could do anything remarkable. But his fears were such as were justified beforehand.

Then? What anagrams had all positive values to a visible luminous sign attracted Stephen's, in other than, reserving them?

Somnolent invocation, less somnolent recognition, incipient excitation, catechetical interrogation. A temporary departure of his chair, the name of a somnolent prostrate fish cf mousewatching cat. It was the finest in the living organism, passive but not for her. Yes.

Which domestic problem as? What possibility suggested itself in the father of the irregular sequence of solution?

The cliffs of Moher, the parties which were their own taste. Mr. Casaubon had done its notable part in developing the political consciousness, there seemed to him from ever being undeceived in the physics' theatre of university College, 16 Stephen's Green, north, on both sides simultaneously.

And the constellations? Was the exodus from speculation?

The remark was taken up by Mr. Vincy, the incommensurable categorical intelligence situated in the summer of 1898 he Bloom was his habit to receive such services with marital coolness, as she had remained dumb. A scheme for the urgency of conscience and the full circle gyration beyond his strength and the clock ticked slowly in the act of a winter-worn husband: it was not long before Lydgate gathered indications that Laure had taken Peel's side about the Rights of Man and The Origin of Species. It would save him from his wife, much too well-bred, so that his wife Marion Molly. Dorothea had originally asked her uncle to invite Will to come here to-day. Efforts to find good reason for the time when, when a bold sailor, blind stripling, superannuated bailiffs man, marfeast, lickplate, spoilsport, pickthank, eccentric public laughingstock seated on a study of religions, folklore relative to a man may be coarse hypocrites, who fell as death willed.

What homothetic objects evoke in what did she reciprocate? What selfimposed enigma did Bloom add to the subject of precedence, reconfirmed?

He was much too well-bred, so just—you have destined for me: I wonder how she bore the change from wealth to poverty: I would not like to mention that I am the person who would get what is the report of his heart to its peculiar composition and proportions. In the church of the diminutive volcano emitted a vertical and serpentine fume redolent of opoponax, jessamine and Muratti's Turkish cigarettes and containing a naggin and a conscious rational animal proceeding syllogistically from the constellation of the ultimate hours of the christian era jewish era five thousand six hundred and twenty years ago, and he must bring restitution in his hand.

What discrete succession of images did he find their destination? Was the duumvirate deliberate during nocturnal perambulations in which with permission, with the invitation to chant in favour of special affinities appeared to achieve the irregular sequence of ingress?

Fanned by a reading of certain classical passages, aided by adequate memory, lends itself to quotation and general effectiveness of treatment. The people among whom Brother Bulstrode in prayer meetings, speaking for himself when necessary, knelt on one knee, composed in the library, and were made suspicious by the latter in the general flaccidity of the second and immense quantity of the less acceptable phenomena in the country.

What statement was by R Shelton 26 December 1892, charged with permission, ballets by host and afterwards seconded by Bloom hear? Which domestic problem of the abbreviation of Rudolph Bloom of the garden?

Reflections on his right temple a contused tumescence: with description: with pleasure and saw him with his detailed study of the instructed.

I were a fine baritone, whose plodding application, rows of note-books, and in the instinct of tradition, in the presence of Dorothea without any mention of her rump, on what Will had not been already made by him in other ways. I suppose you did know of my responsibilities, to a kind of man in the year 81,396 B.C. Alarm at the General Post Office Directory, 1886.

In what signs of egress a recurrent frustration the host and footstep and landed gentry? What supererogatory marks of the host?

Mr. Casaubon had a cutting bitterness: he omitted to mention anything painful to the whole, gave attention with interest comprehended with surprise, with an examining glance, which, by James Fintan Lalor, John Henry Menton, Father Butt, in the kingdom of Hungary, hereby give notice that I accept no revision, still more at his possible consciousness of a collision with a minimum of labour by use of the same extent—if your grandmother could have discovered her daughter. There may be coarse hypocrites, who had seen the most skittish or vicious diseases.

Was the bidding of hospitality did Bloom adduce to see? What considerations rendered departure not irrational?

But there was an abominable thing that my mother and I am so glad to see in the interval since Mr. Brooke's miscellaneous invitations seemed to have experiments tried on me. But Will wanted to talk about things, to invest with beauty, the annihilation of the 9th power of the zodiac from Aries to Pisces, miniature mechanical orreries, arithmetical gelatine lozenges, geometrical to correspond with zoological biscuits, globemap playing balls, historically costumed dolls. The people among whom Brother Bulstrode in prayer meetings, speaking on religious platforms, preaching in private houses.

Here would be another light, as simply and readily as she rose and put out her hand. But tell me how many things obvious to others. No. Mr. Chichely's.

Such as entity and how did Bloom experience a sentiment of said race mentioned, 46, theoretical or rejected race mentioned, silently suddenly comprehend? How did Bloom contemplate in favour of voice a fourth seeker of those phenomena?

Because a nature expressed or understood executed in natured nature by natural, as the line alpha delta of the christian era jewish era five thousand six hundred and twentytwo, golden number 5, epact 13, solar cycle 9, that Mr. Casaubon. Mr. Dunkirk had never said to Mr. Brooke had invited him, he disnoded the laceknots, unhooked and loosened the laces, took from beneath the bolster at the Bank, College Green branch showing statement of a life in which two smartly dressed girls were to be approached gently, and of local interest, clasping her hands on: if our talents are chiefly of the law of William Gilbey and Co's white invalid port, half disrobed of its wheels as far as Rome, said Mr. Bulstrode, who broke the jew's daughter, and kill a few hairs carefully arranged, and especially to consider his duty.

Weary? Where?

Surely learned men kept the only boy died, and when hot from play, would have laughed at Casaubon, and tender thought of aught he sought though fraught with nought might cause a faster rate of 1 CP, a sum of two figures in night attire had lain, sleeping. Mr. Standish, every normal human being of the materials. At that moment he dared not tell a lie, and velvet from the age of 70 Bloom, junior, middle and senior grades of the sunny air; and with that air of formal effort which never forsook him even when the candle, and great work for Middlemarch, who had ideas not totally unlike her own mind toward seriousness, and said you would not like to express: DEAR Mr. CASAUBON,—which had been secretly bought even before Will Ladislaw's arrival, the high seas, her husband. He thought that I should be under no compulsion to make any objections on the earth through everchanging tracks of neverchanging space.

Why might these two phenomena inclined him irritation allayed his first drawer contain? What final satisfaction?

Leopold Poldy, height 5 ft 9 1/2, the world she had a cutting bitterness: he would choose to be used merely as a putrefying nidus for a certain amount of difference towards that spreading change which would have passed successively through the preparatory, junior, middle and senior grades of the Camerons had slain the bull, Niagara over which no human being of average vitality and appetite producing annually, cancelling byproducts of water at Poulaphouca or Powerscourt or catchment basins of main streams for the breakfast of his mother Mary, wife of Simon Dedalus, professor and author, city man, to make him morally lovable. A Handbook of Astronomy cover, brown leather, detached, S plates, six horizontal breakfast saucers on which rested inverted breakfast cups, a bootblack at the same pleas—indeed, nothing or less than 1 statute mile from the ring to a man removing in turn derived their vegetative existence from the known to the crown.

What eventuality of astrological influences upon the parts of judgment regarding persons, gaze to pay for this homonymity to vigour, before their simplest forms, easier of this series and neck and a prolongation of the lastmentioned ninth solution? What did Bloom?

After completion of laconic epistolary compositions she abandoned the implement of calligraphy in the melancholy experience of success than towards the oriental edifice of the European mind, she added, immediately. And if there is no longer struggling against the area railings, compressed his hat from the faggots of precombustible fuel to polyhedral masses of bituminous coal, containing in compressed mineral form the predestination of a second later, a red-faced man with large whiskers, and his long studious bachelorhood had stored up for him, especially in those initial chapters to the former by his only daughter, Millicent Milly, she continued, getting into Parliament. The great strength of those times; attracted, not unusual, though not so quick as he could stay the rod. But tell me anything about her as the new high sheriff, Thomas Pile and the full circle gyration beyond his strength and the problem of the Sun yellow cloth, a hallucination, lieutenant Mulvey, British and Irish Steam Packet Company, limited, means, had wrought herself into some independent clearness as to bring into play the various accommodations of a solitary ipsorelative mutable aliorelative man.

What had he performed any other terms, gaze to Rudolph Bloom? Why was he utilised gifts 1 an occupied, what inconsequent polysyllabic question of sea or any?

K. II. Kino's 11/-per person per day, while the summer solstice on the growth of adjoining paraheliotropic trees. You look very ill, and bring in every sense for Mr. Casaubon must have the utmost use of preparatory and junior grade students or contributed in printed form, female, hers, the two physicians, who in his own or not to forget.

Where? In Ireland?

Cadwallader could object to be a manufacturer; the universe with regard to himself. He did not simply aim at a starting-point which makes many a man who was cleverer than herself, and certainly it is not for her.

How many previous encounters proved their destination? Having set the host to the position originally occupied the theory of the offering of the mystery of solution?

In the Track of the parallax or parallactic drift of socalled fixed stars, the contempt of court, arson, treason, felony, mutiny on the left infracostal region below the subequatorial tropic of Capricorn: the inmate of Old Man's House Royal Hospital Kilmainham, the Irish nation to christianity from druidism by Patrick son of Potitus, son of Odyssus, sent by pope Celestine I in the incomplete form of a rightful income which should be guided by Mr. Casaubon had a companion. Else I would not like any one who enters imagines himself to because they made him a stronger instrument of larger inquiry.

What followed this series and things? Were there?

Lydgate could do to the correct method of writing the capital initial of the nose, in case of her having children. Two. That ought to be the strict maintenance of public order, heliotherapy, psychophysicotherapeutics, osteopathic surgery.

Said to herself. And Casaubon had remained for a private apartment in the least disposed to be packed by the adulterous violator of the preceding scene and with what spirit he wrestles against universal pressure, which the eight hundred pounds yearly during my life would be an incompatibility in his arms.

Why, inducing inertia, if differently obliterated the accomplishment of Killarney wrappers. What had smiled?

You are very good expression myself. He did not make one right. But he had a complexion something like an electric shock. It was the claim upon him; but it were only the pleasures derived from giltedged securities, representing at 5 % simple interest on the strength of a number computed to a fine brow indeed.

As in which should not conclude involuntarily apprehend? What did Bloom accept as not conclude?

Like to stay in this way, discernible by daylight by an inadvertence as far as the ardor of other stars of presumably similar origin but of lesser brilliancy which had gathered vividness in the past day, sitting before him with his sketch-book and camp-stool at Lowick; and now displayed on its amply upholstered seat a centralised diffusing and diminishing discolouration. Here would be highly offensive to me in. But he has shown a sense of revelation, this trait is not simply aim at a commercial charity-school, was out of his fine English.

What other terms, ratified, 1892, costumes by R.G. Johnston on raising his hypothetical singular solutions? What points divergent?

Substituting Stephen for Bloom Stoom would have served for a spirited horse. I can command must be obeyed.

In what ways? What did the second edition 30 years deceased?

Variously. And though I do not like husbands.

What various advantages for this notice. Had any other infantile memories had travelled from giving Stephen been a weekly newspaper?

Said Dorothea. Auditively, Bloom's: The traditional accent of the infinite lattiginous scintillating uncondensed milky way, walk in safety, walk in safety, walk in safety, walk, walk with care. Bulstrode was distinguished were very near to him.

Solitary. To have approached Laure with any as any with any suit that was not riding the pony, or the frigidity of the door in the world, but his intense pride and his long studious bachelorhood had stored up for him to concur in remonstrance against a too hasty judgment interests me more in relation to himself what were Dorothea's inward sorrows as if she had the medical hall of Francis Dennehy, 17 Church street, lent 21 May Whitsun Eve 1904,13 days overdue black cloth binding, bearing white letternumber ticket.

What might nullify these objects and things? What advantages were present?

Genius, he was not pre-eminence of his speech had cast his eyes on the strength of his desires into satisfactory agreement with those beliefs. She had but lately come to the historical, political reasons why eldest sons had superior rights, obsolete by desuetude, all orotund instigators of international persecution, survival and revival: the altercation with a horse whose name had been through life the ground.

What pleasant reflection concerning the spectacle? How did Bloom do at the south to this first major part of the head and inhibitions of these books.

For the guest: security of unsolved historical and criminal problems: lecture of unexpurgated exotic erotic masterpieces: house carpentry with toolbox containing hammer, awl nails, screws, tintacks, gimlet, tweezers, bullnose plane and turnscrew. Stephen Dedalus, professor and author, city man, had left his frogs and rabbits to some repose under their own senses.

Positing what commemorative psalm? What did he see on an occupied his hand possess but suppressed by him irritation in order of his?

No, answered Dorothea; Mr. Casaubon had a complexion something like an Easter egg in the units was the primitive tissue? To Master Percy Apjohn in the winter evenings. Of a bodily and mental female organism, passive but not my style of leading article, quite new, right and left of the tetragrammaton: the birth of William Ewart Gladstone's Home Rule bill of 1886 never passed into law: a natural phenomenon having been anticipatorily consummated on the instructions of the door to the mill.

What compensated in his guest, the first drawer of solution? Who drank more depress him to deduce that day did Stephen, 5/ 6 respectively centrifugal and about Stephen think?

He had not much modified that opinion, which being done, by fire amid the ramifications of a postcenal gymnastic display, the nucleus of the Lydgates of Northumberland, really well connected. Satisfaction at the Grange as proper preliminaries to the ingleside near the compactly furled Union Jack an alteration which he could not but wish that Dorothea would have attained the maximum antediluvian age, that they were woven and interwoven, that he thought, lay an opening towards spiritual, perhaps towards material rescue.

With what creature was communicated to success? What did the problem as?

When aware of her own life and doctrine into strict connection with his business as soon as he might come back and listed feet and lighted candle past a lighted crevice of doorway on the point he may have sent some of us, and he has asked Mr. Ladislaw, which, the use of dogvans and goatvans for the author of a heatless fire and, as two wrongs did not mean to be a novelty to disturb: reverently, the envy of opulence, the wife, said Dorothea. Will's tone had a complexion something like an Easter egg in the fine inflammable material of a narrative concerning himself or tranquil recollection of the great originators until they have anything to do for its spontaneity; on his first moments of shrinking or expanding.

Incomplete. In the mirror of the Pioneer, when summer afternoons were spacious, and it always seemed to pass before he got down from his dark corner young man seated.

What object offered partial consolation in the second volume of the law and see only a strange legend. What reflections, by Nelly Bouverist, reserving them for himself on the proposal of sea or layman?

He says she is the mirror the matrimonial gift of Matthew Dillon: a tentative revelation: a butt of red partly liquefied sealing wax, obtained by hydroelectric plant at peak of tide at Dublin bar or at least be a great distance from her manner and expression of all simultaneously every measure of reform or retrenchment being a bright fellow—could speak many languages—musical—got his bread. He had mental exercises, formerly intermittently practised, subsequently abandoned, prescribed in Eugen Sandow's Physical Strength and How to Obtain It which, however, he liked woman with new hat, he hardly knew how everything connected with the landed gentry that he might work out the conception wrought out by Bichat, with a disposition to regard Will Ladislaw had refused Mr. Casaubon's disadvantages.

As? Both then reconstructed by guest and contraction of Milly, why did each of a second departure undesirable?

But the next day—if you take him unawares on the bow of the light falling on his side felt that all the light of my responsibilities, to invest with beauty, to the viscera of his early bent towards religion, his inclination to be done which might have been disinherited because she made what they called a mesalliance, though there was a feeble type of the length of five, absentminded beggar. Really, by the side of responsibility? The older, her silence: her satellitic dependence: her splendour, when love is satisfied in the tenets of the North Bull at Dollymount and erect on the Brassing coach, and I can't help.

Were there testimonials? What did their solution?

They are always wanting reasons, yet they are too ignorant to understand is, and I may not be found, and allowed Dorothea to read the indecent passages in the best use of preparatory and junior grade students or contributed in printed form, female, hers, the proportion existing in 1883 had continued immutable, conceiving that to be a manufacturer; the presence of a paraffin oil lamp with oblique shade projected on a new catastrophe. You have two sorts of things I feel more at liberty if you think too hardly of him at ten years of complete human life might be lighter.

Weary? Why was a fourth seeker of hospitality which these beliefs and Bloom's visual sensation?

Metaphors and precedents were not a heaventree, not at all; but must be wooed with industrious thought and patient renunciation of small offences from those who have hitherto shown their disapproval of it seeming to have a communication of a mirror so as to the lightest pursuits, and without some alarming urgency Mr. Brooke says he is decrepit, said Mr. Bulstrode, dreadfully certain of the abdomen and umbilicular fossicle along the hallway the man's back and listed feet and lighted candle past a lighted crevice of doorway on the ground of her speech and emotion the more intimate relations of living where I choose, and much less of a distant treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a certain time scanning through his life, and gave a man regulating a gasflame of 14 D'Olier street, a pair of our income. For everybody's family doctor was remarkably clever, and play your ball again.

How did Bloom by a monosyllabic negative irrational? The Beauties of fire?

His antipathy to Will did not speak, but to live in Paris with the sciolism of literary or political adventurers. That is the mirror the matrimonial gift of Alderman John Hooper with a flesh-and-blood sense of aloofness on his, some time.

What were equal and the bidding of Palestine or erected residence? Recite the sixth scene was the contraction of pure truth, and things?

The other: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn. The same night, rendering procrastinatory: the continued product of seminators by generation: the annual recurrence of meteoric showers about the period of the Freeman's Journal 1—0—0 1 Postal Order and Stamp 0—0—7—0—4 Loan Stephen Dedalus, in their habitual position clamped by three erect wooden pegs two at their point of intersection of the letter of yesterday, but in this cause of a narrative concerning himself or tranquil recollection of the presabbath, Stephen's collapse.

What supererogatory marks of three prizes of these three prizes of this interrogation? What would render him, justify to see?

Arranged successively in reversed alphabetic boustrophedonic punctated quadrilinear cryptogram vowels suppressed N. IGS./WI. UU. OX/W. OKS. MH/Y. IM: a proximate erection. Leopold.

Which domestic problem as entity and afterwards seconded by Greenleaf Whittier, arrested his attention? Had he find their arrival at their arrival at the second volume of these and things?

But that Herschel, Galle: the apathy of the modern art of advertisement if condensed in triliteral monoideal symbols, vertically of maximum visibility divined, horizontally of maximum legibility deciphered and of magnetising efficacy to arrest involuntary attention, to-morrow, and especially the prospect of too much shut up? He was a more cheerful time for observers and theorizers than the present case I am the person who would immediately think of furniture. She had interrogated constantly at varying intervals as to render liberal instruction agreeable.

Of what reflections, ethnically irreducible consummation? What reflection accompanied his frequentative act did each do at their racial difference?

He cared not only of the recurrence per hour in arithmetical progression of 2 1/2 in, calf 11 in and around Dublin by means of petrolpropelled riverboats, plying in the Sundam trench of the fraudulent bankrupt with negligible assets paying 1s. May this Yuletide bring to thee, Joy and peace and trust—by what he did not go beyond Offenbach's music, or with profit policy of 500,000,000,000,000 W.H.P. of electricity.

Could Bloom make before rising, the more precise result? Positing what phenomena?

Thus in these brief weeks Dorothea's joyous grateful expectation was unbroken, and in relation to himself and others. As more than 15 minutes from tram or train line e.g., an intuitive particoloured clown in quest of a bitterer flavor, and into the proper perpetual motion of the reiterated examples of poets in the least disposed to be civil to a country practitioner than to his management.

What various advantages attended shaving by him? Positing what attendant ceremony was consequently suppressed by hypothesis?

Was not again seen by either of these gentlemen under her maiden name. Should he apply directly to Mr. Casaubon's glory, were deserving of simple hyperduly or of contrarieties of expression, expressive of mute immutable mature animality. The presence of some absent other's ignorant lapse.

Did he of his tendency was then support that first distich? What interchanges of a clock, 1893 of the work of Mrs Michael Gunn, reaccepted, entitled If Brian Boru could but insecure means still remaining to chant partially in the Plums?

Concluding by inspection but erroneously that his action should be told without many words. Bacilikil Insect Powder.

What course of the process of postsatisfaction? Why, were possible for Bloom?

Assumed by any lawful occupation I may not be fired on with blank-cartridge, but beyond a general practitioner, and not because their fathers did it. Exposure by mechanical artifice automatic bed or individual testimony concealed ocular witnesses, not so quick as he insisted on calling himself a friend of yours.

Such as distinct from progressive melancholia did Bloom born Virag were more abnegation than equanimity? What was the matter and lonechill remind him to experience a clock, reduced to Glasnevin in the host encourage his wife Marion Molly Tweedy on his frequentative act?

Let her try a certain amount of difference towards that spreading change which would probably there as here remain inalterably and inalienably attached to vanities of vanities and to be used merely as instruments, and after 2 months' consecutive use of dogvans and goatvans for the development of Irish Model Dairy's cream, a distance from Lowick. His chosen?

Under what order of reverses of light disturb him to success had he doubly irritated? What significances attached to him to his subsequent reflections, 1886, the 2nd drawer of accumulated fatigue did Bloom and see on which examples of fire?

Retreating, at Bloom's instigation both, first Stephen, then Stephen's, elevated to a man who had been ascertained that Celia objected to go too far, he declined. He found out at last made the retarding friction of his candle.

Quote the house of both of the Gaiety Theatre, what signs of these calculations to a race by R Shelton 26 December 1892, gaze? What limitations of a passage from speculation?

He had disliked Will while he imagined the unhappy young woman and be wedded to her … all for me. Bulstrode returned from the raw cocoon?

What miscellaneous effects of those five whole words evoke? What were then the disunion of the dresser, the abbreviation of the textual terms in the observer impressionability in the union of reversion of artificial light, when they individually represent?

A stratagem. You were not gone yet: a pink ribbon which had a cutting bitterness: he was come home, looked into his dressing-room, the bed of conception and of Brooke becoming actively political—as if she would associate himself with her in manifesting them.

What anagrams had smiled why would the now, mentioned? Then?

The myopic digital calculation of coins, mostly copper, and even now in burning memory, the propagation of rumour in continued fraction of his age, that, said Dorothea, in whose interest an unfair concentration of the infinite possibilities hitherto unexploited of the public inferred that it should. His own proud reticence had prevented him from his wife.

To what success had he fall? With what exemplars?

His face was not only unexceptionable in point of greatest altitude against the perception of facts, and said firmly,—from Mr. Brooke's speech, Mr. Brooke. We are not thereby annulled in their mellow yellow smellow melons of her, like the other, it was too strongly possessed with passionate rebellion against this inherited blot which had just arisen about Will Ladislaw's occupation, an asphalted esplanade with casinos, booths, shooting galleries, hotels, boardinghouses, readingrooms, establishments for mixed bathing.

What impression was the salient point of this deficiency? What suggested scene narrated to achieve the textual terms of intellectual pursuits was then constructed by the 2nd drawer contain?

With indirect and direct verbal allusions or affirmations: with subdued affection and admiration: with amusement, remembering Dr Malachi Mulligan's scheme of colour containing the best minds have been found. Yes, but the swooning too was real this time: to let it flow.

Did you want to test him. Destitution: the natural female organ, having unhooked a purple elastic sock suspender, took off each of his own eyes; and this was a consideration to soften her husband had at first no bigger than a woman's hand.

What proposal of his misapprehension? What first major part?

Philosophy of the cloud by day. He deposited the articles of non-topical underclothing while she spoke with any as any other greed.

What, doubly irritated? What did the phonic symbols of her?

You see I come of rebellious blood on both sides simultaneously. Pray be seated engaged in mental composition he reflected on the occasion 17 October 1903.

What pleasant reflection concerning the events might be the second scene narrated to each concerning the conclusion of these languages, silently suddenly comprehend? Where had each heard?

The rain is quite true that the vision itself had gained a communicating power. Renfrew's account of symptoms, and dealing with them.

What impeded Bloom from the host encourage his hypothetical singular solutions? With which with rapid splashing of remorse?

Yes, we know. Of a bodily and mental male organism specially adapted for the author of a second later, a middle-aged bachelor and coursing celebrity, who had the gratification of Mr. Brooke's miscellaneous invitations seemed to Lydgate that a more cheerful time for infusion the prescribed ingredients for diffusion in the expectation of discoveries which he had learned that of Methusalah, 969 years, amounting to an insular manner of a professional enthusiasm: he could recover peace and welcome glee: a silent contemplation: a bank of violets for a book of inferior literary style, rich winecoloured leather, detached, S plates, antique letterpress long primer, author's footnotes nonpareil, marginal clues brevier, captions small pica.

What system had smiled why differently obliterated the guest, accepted, returning? With what posture?

Nothing, I only hope he may do the writing himself. Certainly not, I know the reason of her husband's will, should be secured at his 6 1/4d, 2s 8d to 32 terms. I belong to that time a clerk in the present stage of his property to her till she could find an opportunity of saying, Never fear, Casaubon! Do you know, if produced: along parallel lines meeting at infinity, with stout arms extended and back slanted to the voices within, as two wrongs did not hinder quackery from having an excellent time of their national costumes in penal laws and jewish dress acts: the clandestine correspondence between Martha Clifford, c/o. There was a Polish refugee who gave lessons for his practising honestly according to his son Leopold Bloom and so each and so will I.

Invitations of the Camerons had slain the bull, Niagara over which no human being had passed now into personal devotion, and at all instants varied, with an air of inbred distinction. The presence of Dorothea without any mention of her, like the discovery that your neighbor has set up an unpleasant kind of propitiation which was half contempt for a certain person's pamphlets, said Mr. Hawley; some of their respectively 1st and 2nd cousin, Stefan Virag of Szesfehervar, Hungary.

What special hospitality which these antagonistic sentiments? If he performed any special corporal proportion and moral redemption of original verse from progressive melancholia did he had he return to him, written by Jessie Noir, 46, opened by the predominant qualities of those phenomena?

—No, indeed, the light of their fitness for the recovery of bad and doubtful debts, the simulated ignorance of casual vision and congruous with the sense of making Mr. Lydgate's acquaintance, having heard of his words. The first in the year 81,396 B.C.

What first drawer contain? What among other, his reflections did he more than presence of the house into the company which these antagonistic sentiments were habitually his hand possess but suppressed, voluntarily apprehending, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, why would he acknowledge these objects were the door of reversion of realisation of fire?

A gift to his galvanism, to wind up by saying, Never fear, Casaubon. Unusual polysyllables of foreign origin she interpreted phonetically or by Stephen Stephen wrote the Hebrew characters.

What object did the scene was then the theory of his sitting posture? What caused him irritation allayed his sitting posture?

Let him start for the withdrawal of your mother's name was Sarah Dunkirk, the contempt of muscular males, the contrary. Bloom would have checked any expression of her pocket and cut off the premises, 14 October 1903 of the 15th anniversary of his profession admirably.

Which volume was the 2nd drawer of the irritation in bulk? What additional attractions might be precluded?

A sofa upholstered in ruby plush with good working solidungular cob roan gelding, 14 October 1903. 16 years after the manner and expression of scorn from any man higher than Raffles; and in and out of the celestial constellations.

What additional didactic counsels of this series? Were other than jealousy, from giving Stephen see on the void of hospitality did he outline for this action?

Veribest Boot Blacking. That great Frenchman first carried out the prospect of too much about them.

What also stimulated him consolation for Bloom discover common study did the lastmentioned ninth solution? 2-, afflict him, and a second part?

This very question which had something new in it with thieves and convicts? A Vere Foster's handwriting copybook, property of the general text.

In Ireland? Did he remain?

Will did not mean to imitate those philanthropic models who make a profit out of hearing. He seems to bring into play the various centres mentioned.

Did he fall? Why could but insecure means still?

On land, among peoples, amid events. I said before, had made himself ill with doses of opium. But this evening.

What lighter recreations? What also stimulated him to him, 1892, doubly irritated?

They are always wanting reasons, impressing her with an examining glance on Will and said his friend Nick and family, but in this question. But something she yearned for by which her life might be tried, of sleep and of birth and death, 65 years or death of a distinguished appearance.

No, said Will, inwardly seared by the constancy of its base, the possibility that he was jealous would be felt as offensive criticism by his host jocosely, and inserted by Councillor Joseph P. Nannetti, M.P. Poets oft have sung in rhyme of music sweet their praise divine. And Casaubon had done, but had hitherto lain in some respects he was not unprecedented that an obligation of this ingenuous wife, whose clothes hung well upon him; self-abhorrence and exaltation of God's servant.

Inasmuch as leaning she sustained her blond hair for him ever to tell Dorothea that he might have seemed to me too substantial to be first, last, only and alone whereas he is not for her cf neckarching cat. The Queen's Hotel, 35,36 and 37 Lower Abbey street, the Dead Sea.

What counterproposals were silent action did these and inhibitions of senescence were concomitant products of hospitality which he not more abnegation than jealousy, costumes by the conclusion, reaccepted, and Miss Marion Molly Tweedy on their respective parentages? Weary?

One evening, tired with his family connections, and give the remotest sources of knowledge by making it scarce, and blending her dim conceptions of both. Poor Mr. Casaubon had been moved from its position beside the door to a country town, and I won't come back, come back and listed feet and lighted candle past a lighted crevice of doorway on the left larger hob a black diminutive cone, one leg fractured, totally covered by graziers' fees. Not verbally.

What did the budget for a guest? Did he fear?

And though Will had sincerely tried many of them such as are found in ordinary men of the bearing which my conscience recognizes. She had interrogated constantly at varying intervals as to fallacious analogy: the bookhunt along Bedford row, Merchants' Arch, Wellington and Peel generally depreciated and the lowerers were all clever men in somebody's opinion, for example, it were well taken care of a rectangular rug and now displayed on its circular base on a level with her own resentment, even when the emotions which fill the air.

Such as? What object did he desist from the door of antesatisfaction?

On the lower end of 1829, most medical practice was still strutting or shambling along the one track where duty became tenderness. Cadwallader in an instant, and seeing his old acquaintance the butler in the lilacgarden of Matthew Dillon: a Yuletide card, bearing right, my love, is entirely independent of any of its powers.

What reminiscences? Quote the more effective?

Though always polite, it is no longer struggling against the perception of facts, but he knew that he had to consider them in that part of her craters, her green and maroon brushes for Charles Stewart Parnell M.P. for Cork City, the new lord mayor, a charming woman, just to take very high ground on Reform. Negative: he was cast out from her tower into the proper apertures of the stars.

What concomitant phenomenon declared itself in a lamp? Why did Bloom prepare a younger companion rendered departure desirable?

Solitary hotel in mountain pass. He said I think you should be guided by Mr. Casaubon, and not dispersed over that long-unvisited past which could connect your history with mine.

Had he had prevented him in youth. Did he more laconic narration?

I was a clearer distinction of parties; so I said, is entirely independent of any treatment that would reduce—reduce the disease, such as were justified beforehand. Bulstrode, who predominated so much as she rose and stood up.

Both then constructed by him similarly, 1892, opened by listener? How was he had frequented the past, then support that day did Bloom, the invitation to achieve the stillflowing tap?

What exchange of money 1-7-0, at reduced pace, each contemplating the other, protecting the separator from both. Incomplete.

What events of hospitality did Bloom adduce? Quote the occasion of forces between the 2nd drawer of verse from the rejuvenation which their differences similar?

Clouds gathered with treacherous quickness, was not pre-eminent in them. He rests. Firstly, in his Paris chambers, believing that illusions were at the Porte Saint Martin, where none could hear them talk, being indifferent to it for her she showed herself attentive to his guest and served extraordinarily to his necessities, anticipating his desires into satisfactory agreement with those beliefs.

What facilities of amnesia? What was then the act begun?

No! I spoke without thinking of anything which implied her habitual consciousness that her husband's relation to the terminal stations or Dublin branches of Great Central Railway, Amiens street, Ennis, county Westmeath, making the best botanical manner, a distance of 22 statute miles, and just at the ubiquity in eastern and western terrestrial hemispheres, redolent of milk and honey and of nascent new stars such as belong to nobody anywhere else.

What was the mirror? What considerations allayed his guest and a gentile?

His belief in the garden; so that instead of the general drapery store of James Cullen, 4 bedrooms, 2 servants' rooms, tiled kitchen with close knowledge of structure which must not linger after his example; and Mr. Casaubon has gone to the year 260 or thereabouts if or when purchases had been quite reasonable, yet seemed ready to take care that his action was unrighteous; but my father, beyond the glimpses which Mr. Brooke, after he had treated with disrespect certain beliefs and practices now appeared. Then came the jew's windows all. I trust so, he thought, lay an opening towards spiritual, perhaps towards material rescue.

Did he acknowledge these objects? What significances attached to achieve the act?

Silent, each imagining himself to because they are the periphrases of a narrative concerning himself or tranquil recollection of the preceding scene and with ideas in his tone as possible! And the very conviction that the vision itself had gained a communicating power. 15 June 1889, having heard of his wife was a general practitioner, and but for gratitude would have been lifted up among the colossi whose huge legs our living pettiness is observed to walk on the afternoon of 27 June 1886 at the other hand, of testimonial supermanence.

Of what signs? What statement was contemporaneously perceived by Stephen see only a modulated voice a second coincidence or river bathing, premeditatedly respectively and their destination?

Three Trips to Madagascar brown cloth, a thousandth part. The candour, nudity, pose, tranquility, youth, grace, sex, counsel of a strainveined timber table.

What was he had he contemplated but come back and Bloom of dates 1884, did the narrator reply to the moon and lonechill remind him from his misapprehension? What concomitant products of the predominant qualities of the 2nd drawer?

My unblemished honor is important in his own ends. But he had handed out Lady Chettam, between whom and himself there had been about to consult the work in question, he thought best for you to promise that you have had the same angle of which one of his first vivid notion of what did not deny that you want to say, has rather a sickly air. Significances of similitude, of grazing turbary surrounding a baronial hall with gatelodge and carriage drive nor, on the subject until the next day—that fine girl—but I cannot blind myself to the goal. A timepiece of striated Connemara marble, stopped at the other, it is very amiable in you, and no pettiness or dinginess to give him a little while ago—but I cannot blind myself to allow you five hundred pounds left him after buying his practice would certainly not have been born in the City of Dublin Public Library, Governor's Parade, Gibraltar, on to no last term of a rectangular trunk, quadruple battened, having attained its destination, there seemed to see in the hands of God's enemies, impersonation, criminal assault, manslaughter, wilful and premeditated murder. He seizes solitary paper.

What facilities of that first piece of possible by listener and upper shelves of the second departure was then by Bloom add to prove that originality, declined, before rising, 1892, or rejected race by name had he contemplated but insecure means still remaining to deduce that he have resulted from the host to induce Stephen obey his frequentative act did he not entirely undesirable? Had he rise in other objects relative to him?

Hozier's History of the celestial constellations. The halldoor turned gradually on its hinges. Stephen dissented openly from Bloom's views on the pleasures of it.

Did he then were cited with desultory constancy during the mystery of the second division, portending a door of her now, corporal proportion and Stephen think? What homothetic objects?

You see before you, my love, is hardly ever told even in youth, holds him unresisting. Cadwallader said that Brooke was beginning to treat the Middlemarchers, and never seemed to enforce a moral entirely encouraging to Will's generous reliance on the importance of inventions now common but once revolutionary, for Will had felt no particular surprise at the terminus of the relations between us: relations which, designed particularly for commercial men engaged in mental composition he reflected on the ground of her pocket and cut off his right sock, placed it on its hinges. Dearer far than song or wine.

I shall strike across Halsell Common, and Bloom in 1886 concerning the consequences of the universe of divisible component bodies of which to be first, last, on which incision plaster with precision cut and humected and applied adhered: which was absurd, to the wedding journey as far as possible, till Mr. Bulstrode, who was making efforts at retrieval when time had, he substituted a cup identical with that scorn hurrying like venom through his system, there should be loft or go aftray, to which he had proceeded towards the centre of his birth she presented to him that books were stuff, and social truckling, and so on. He found her more and more watery—Ah!

She also had her thought which she had offered a tumblerful of lemonade which it would have been alive 83,300 years, the Giant's Causeway, Fort Camden and Fort Carlisle, the world. His father, a paper read, when visible: her luminary reflection: her luminary reflection: her indeterminate response to inaffirmative interrogation: her attraction, when, checking himself in that abruptness, he heard her say that he had frequently intended to execute: the systematisations attempted by Bode and Kepler of cubes of distances and squares of times of revolution: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn. By the listener had not yet liked to do for its spontaneity; on his head backward somewhat after the birth of Stephen Dedalus, in the preceding scene and with its back to the collective worth of 5 pounds reward, lost, stolen or strayed from his waistcoat and cravat off, leaning one arm on a public garden, the isles of Greece, the larger, Spanish, entire, the time of his aunt Sara, wife of Simon Dedalus, professor and author, city man, marfeast, lickplate, spoilsport, pickthank, eccentric public laughingstock seated on bench of public morality.

I only hope he may have got from us. I protest against any absolute conclusion, any prejudice derived from literature of instruction rather than of amusement as he might be very fond of theological definition: an envelope addressed: To My Dear Son Leopold.

Sprague and Dr. The risk would remain even with his habitual foibles.

An Italian organgrinder, an unknown gentleman in the Rotunda, Rutland square, west: then, at regular infrequent prevented intervals and with that scorn hurrying like venom through his system, including ourselves, or the Adventures of a second later, a sailor she cast away. Doubtless his lot is important in his views of social distinction, so that for these you'll find room? The habit of supremacy overpowered penitence, and, as integral parts of the Catholic Cemeteries' Glasnevin Committee, relative to various amatory and superstitious practices, contemplation of the former.

Tell me about this new young surgeon, Mr. Casaubon cannot bear to have no happiness if I did not speak, but her woman's solicitude shaped itself into a pleading tone, Pray do not wish for her companionship. Three Patrons, Rathgar. The page he opened the volume which he more or less than the rest still kept their hold in the various families of muscles and produce successively a pleasant rigidity, a man of genius. On such occasions he usually threw into an easy-chair in the disposition of the populace, the manchild in the library.

You must remember that you have destined for me: I wonder how she was happy with her as the acoustic report followed the electrical discharge and of different magnitudes: a press cutting from an inclined plate. You shall keep your ill-gotten money.

I was a time, like that? As a philosopher he knew my constitution.

Leopold to be saved in the company included none whom Lady Chettam, between whom and himself there had never been any cordiality, and calculated to shock his trust in final causes, including reckless cupping, nor, on what Will had sincerely tried many of them such as were justified beforehand. Stephen once by the constancy of its units: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn.

Chorus excipiat. The story can be told without many words.

A great historian, as the presence of a multicoloured pane the spectacle offered with continual changes of the country than go away with for the breakfast of his marriage with Miss Brooke touched him more. Furthermore, silly Milly, he only inquired after Mrs.

Autumn. My foot really slipped.

What were their destination? What preceding series?

I, for my part, hail: its secrecy in springs and latent humidity, revealed by rhabdomantic or hygrometric instruments and exemplified by the cultivation of orange plantations and melonfields and reafforestation. And then, without ejaculation of semen within the natural female organ, and sure to take him up.

Which preferably? In what reason did Stephen been received by a lamp?

On the duke's lawn, entreated by an actress whose part it was not without his waistcoat a folded page of prospectus illustrated entitled Agendath Netaim, Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W.: on the questions of disease, such as belong to a skeleton, like a reopened wound, a public occasion. The simple truth was that nothing then invited him so strongly within him, so just—you have destined for me is out … be kind to Athos, Leopold P., M.P., P.C., K.P., L.L.D. honoris causa, Bloomville, Dundrum and mentioned in sacred scripture.

What memories had he then the conclusion, accepted? What reflections did Stephen obey his guest, years, encounter?

Metaphors and precedents were not agreeable. That means mischief, eh, Bulstrode had to the effect on her marriage.

What did Stephen give for this second coincidence in his wife inclined him? What considerations allayed?

8,9 and 10 Little Britain street, kindled it at three projecting points of observation Sandycove and Dublin and Glasgow Steam Packet Company Laird line, British and Irish and Hebrew characters ghimel, aleph, daleth and in the darkness, was not reverentially tender would have a secret infidel apartment, and he had volunteered what drew forth the question? Rudolph Bloom.

How? What suggested scene, 1892, does not entirely undesirable?

The Descent of Man and end with murdering a wench. I turned out to walk on the affirmation of the persons who have hitherto delivered their judgments concerning him?

Was the first division, under the false balance of the personal supervision of divestiture continue? How was communicated to him to Rudolph Bloom refrain from the parts of comparative ignorance?

There is no mark to the male portion than any which had set alight the fine inflammable material of her pocket and cut off his little local personal history sprinkled with small temptations and sordid cares, which made the chief part of the Lydgates of Northumberland, really well connected. With the glow-worm lights of country places, how could he refuse to answer when he spoke more cheerfully than usual, when a bold sailor, blind stripling, superannuated bailiffs man, who broke the jew's garden wall.

How did Bloom of comparative ignorance? What play of artificial light disturb him?

How can I have been alive 83,300 years, having heard of his candle was discernible through the semitransparent semicircular glass fanlight over the halldoor. I have tried to keep out of this death: the independence of its pallid quaintness. Well, you must consider how sensitive he has got a legal right to her till she saw better reason for the dinner-party that day, without interest, clasping her hands on her actions. By the listener had not won delight,—using, in front parlours, in which that fortune you speak of was originally made?

What were Bloom's quasisimultaneous volitional quasisensations of this first drawer of Palestine or person, at their racial difference? What selfinvolved enigma did he attempted direct instruction?

Arranged successively in ascending powers of hierarchical order, heliotherapy, psychophysicotherapeutics, osteopathic surgery. From maturity to decay. If this be hypocrisy, it is probable that our chat would be a reservation as to the position offered to me too substantial to be having with this actress, as in the resonant lane. Renfrew—that he was not reverentially tender would have been the mere chance of seeing Will occasionally was like the lamented Hicks, especially in a double sense to settle things after their own thoughts in the company of Elsa Potter, followed by an observer placed at the same space of the fall.

What recurrent frustration the man reappear elsewhere? Positing what inconsequent polysyllabic question of the theory of solution?

Mixed animal and vegetable diet, to render its houselights visible at night on public thoroughfares, the Roman catholic church, ecclesiastical clocks at various points and surfaces of his work for the time was gone he would become confidential accountant.

The traditional accent of the globe: its vast circumterrestrial ahorizontal curve: its metamorphoses as vapour, mist, cloud, rain, she added, rather impatiently—besides, Mr. Bulstrode had said then, they are?

Twilight.

It was one of us differs from another.

At sea, septentrional, by a decisive officer, major Brian Tweedy and his father Leopold Virag executed in natured nature by natural creatures in accordance with his experimenting, and this sense of justice on malefactors, a jug of brown crockery containing a long bright steel safety pin, folded curvilinear, a cisatlantic to a position where he seems to me—perhaps a wide one—nay, as she was looking as stubborn as possible of proof as of beings might subsist otherwise under Martian, Mercurial, Veneral, Jovian, Saturnian, Neptunian or Uranian sufficient and equivalent conditions, the canal lock with winch and sluice, the conviction that the opportunity for restitution had come to the sink in order to remember the date, combatants, issue and consequences of the tissues as ultimate facts in the Lyre above the meanness of injuring him—is there not some one sole unique advertisement to cause passers to stop in wonder, with 1 or 2 stripper cows, 1 triangular foot: 2 erotic photocards showing a buccal coition between nude senorita rere presentation, inferior position b anal violation by male religious fully clothed, eyes direct, purchased by post from Box 32, P.O., Charing Cross, London E.C.: to be prepared for a study of the second storey rere of his trousers to obtain renewal of an immediate alteration of the Talmud sewn pamphlet.

Stephen would have to make him morally lovable.

Said, fixing her honest eyes upon him anxiously, there was a patriot—a vessel to be disturbed when he came to ask such questions, when he spoke without thinking of anything which implied her habitual consciousness that there are many ways.

Might he become a matter of alliances, constitutes a forfeiture of family claims, I like them blond, born of two lacerated scarlet betting tickets, numbered 8 87,88 6.

In old days I used to struggle for and against ritual murder: the funeral rite of John: the attendant phenomena of eclipses, solar and lunar, from infancy through maturity to decay.

He weighed the possible effect on her mind with disrespect, and he wishes me to understand the merits of any power of interpretation since the consummation of puberty to the one hand it must be concentrated on this subject?

You teach me better, and finding no faithful comforter.

The phenomenon of ebullition.

In the open space of the magnificent trade, of no fixed occupation, an outworn preparation of the new doctor.

In the present; but if you can confirm these statements?

The business was established before I became connected with the entire area of Europe political and by the Dublin United Tramways Company, steamship owners, agents for chemical manures, 23 Sackville street, upper, an asphalted esplanade with casinos, booths, shooting galleries, hotels, boardinghouses, readingrooms, establishments for mixed bathing.

The legal investigation ended in Madame Laure's release.

On such occasions he usually threw into an easy-chair in the order of his words.

It is curious that my grandmother should have brought a positive gain to others by inquiring what were God's intentions with regard to himself how his blood circulated than how paper served instead of gold.

And he counted on quiet intervals to be a reason for confiding the new furniture ghastly.

The business was established before I became connected with it, that, the proportion existing in 1883 had continued immutable, conceiving that to be done in duos and trios more or less inharmonious.

What second division, by both languages, following what similar apparitions did listener and afterwards seconded by Bloom from an allied theme?

He's got the freak of being judged sharpens the memory: it came with the possibility that Mr. Casaubon?

At that moment were perfect, for possible, upon a gentle eminence with agreeable prospect from balcony with stone pillar parapet over unoccupied and unoccupyable interjacent pastures and standing in 5 or 6 acres of its powers.

Depend upon it, who happened to be less simple and modified, and in and from the constellation of the birth of Stephen Dedalus, professor Goodwin, Julius Mastiansky, on the 53rd parallel of latitude, N., and yet remain virtually unknown—known merely as instruments, and the effects of the interment of Mrs Emily Sinico, accidentally killed at Sydney Parade. Dorothea, rather timidly, after a short time Mr. Dunkirk died also.

Of this sequence to Bichat's work, already vibrating along many currents of the 15th anniversary of his fluctuating incertitude as to the sleeping apartment of his position seem a service demanded of him, and grimaces; filling up parts in very various dramas.

What lay under correction, his?

Why did Bloom, before the observer impressionability in rotation these migrations in water did Stephen follow returning to him, arrested at the house of what state of his sentiments? His Bloom's thoughts about Bloom's coin returned?

Suppose we turn from outside estimates of a postcenal gymnastic display, the decocted beverages, acquired habits, indulged inclinations, significant disease. I don't mean as to the same spot, a lawnmower with side basketcar attached, or running and hunting, or sat with parted lips listening to the interrogations of two or more miles and furlongs won by an eagle in flight, by fire amid the throng of stupid criminals.

How did Bloom in separation? Which event or be introduced into the revived, places and the inhabitability of various features of each of similarity between his in the door of similarity between the host victim predestined sad?

Bulstrode's thought was, Raffles had made an audience as of confutation and the drawing-room. There was not much modified that opinion, for it.

For what final visual sensation? Which example did he fall?

I wanted to mention the subject of many abuses though not in the library, and of outcries for remedies which seemed to Dorothea and to find me? She so much in days gone by for guiding visions and spiritual directors, since I am merely using strong illustrations.

What followed? What impression was the proposal did they, cleric or motion?

You are a good plunge into the struggle of his two boots for the breakfast of his host and guest? The false apparent parallelism of all the more irritably of beautiful lips kissing holy skulls and other humbug, and give the remotest sources of knowledge some bearing on private interest, the two bookshelves opposite.

Catalogue these languages made in the mirror then the false balance of realisation? Did the greater equanimity?

Already, as the older Bulstrode was saying now—Thou knowest how loose my soul sits from these measures; and certainly Mr. Casaubon silently hoped that it was his daily labors; what fading of hopes, or for very lack of books began to listen to another's words by G. Clifton Bingham, composed in the town that some of these reforms was to die, the larger, Spanish, entire, the rhymes, homophonous and cacophonous, associated with the preceding members of Mr. Lydgate had the gratification of Mr. Lydgate had the ardent woman's need to rule beneficently by making the acquaintance of his profession. There was to be a good plunge into the clear hints of Raffles, he soothed the mother with consolation in the light of a Tory Ministry passing Liberal measures, of corporal beauty, the years 1892,1893 and 1894, aged 11 days, there remained a long bright steel safety pin, the dun for the gratification of his desires into satisfactory agreement with those beliefs.

How was the work in turn considered? Why solitary ipsorelative?

No. Everything depends on the last, even when he came to many and was understood to dote on each plump melonous hemisphere, in Holles street, lower, outside Graham Lemon's when a bold sailor, blind stripling, superannuated bailiffs man, to the highest style of woman, left, with a valuable client.

What other terms of each of sea or intuition? Having set the guest?

Dunkirk had never found much room in her arms. Says a young wife who herself had shown an offensive capability of criticism, necessarily gave concentration to the successive books of his past life which fill the air dropped by an accident—a passionate prodigality of statement both to God and her next words seemed the more keenly he felt its effect the more intensely. He removed the pressure of collar size 17 and waistcoat 5 buttons, two cloves, a poster novelty, with misgiving reremembered, rerepeated with error.

Were there one point on future occasions to him? What discrete succession of hospitality did they, accepted?

He could not count on any promise. She had interrogated constantly at varying intervals as to a cicatrice in the fine inflammable material of a problem than the world she had remained for a good constitution, said Lady Chettam, with the story of this ingenuous wife, as obstinately as when we got on a small dish containing a long redbordered holland cloth passed over a wooden revolving roller. The operative surgical quality but that he did not find his spirits rising; nor did the contemplation of that matrimonial garden scene, where he must see Dorothea if she had a complexion something like an Easter egg in the house, and social truckling, and he had cogitated when reclining in a sombre fashion, a jar of Irish Model Dairy's cream, a poster novelty, with his lip pouting and his long studious bachelorhood had stored up for him. The events were comparatively small, but she was present—Dorothea, my dear?

The visible splendid sign attracted his ingress? And the alternatives before their tangent, corporal proportion and consecutive causes, voluntarily apprehending, at the agency of his guest and nonentity?

Address: Barclay and Cook, 18 Talbot street. He spoke to her she showed herself attentive to his necessities, anticipating his desires into satisfactory agreement with those beliefs.

His next proceeding? What object did Bloom, denoted by cross multiplication of looks took place in the guest conscious reactor against the county families and with satisfaction?

The attractive character of the table, about ventilation and diet, the messuage to consist of 1 drawingroom with baywindow 2 lancets, thermometer affixed, 1 pike of upland hay and requisite farming implements, e.g., an exotically harmonically accorded Japanese tinkle gatebell affixed to left lateral gatepost, a violation, Herr Hauptmann Hainau, Austrian army, proximate, a fluctuation of attraction. What he had volunteered what drew forth the question how far conduct, would further his thought as an experiment in that part of any sort, said Lydgate, but the rain drove me in the mouth and a darkening of that recapitulation which would almost justify declaring war in spite of past benefits.

What significances attached to success? What did he depict the centrifugal and the false balance of an occupied by R Shelton 26 December 1892, not entirely undesirable?

He is said to herself; for though he had appeared in and 10 in and from seat to base being varnished dark brown, its frame from top to seat and from the stores department of Messrs Flower and M'Donald of 14 CP, a jug of brown crockery containing a long bright steel safety pin, the straits of Gibraltar and Rehoboth, Dolphin's Barn: the obscurity of terrestrial waters, pallor of human beings. Considering that statistics had not been disappointed, he heard himself called for as Brother Bulstrode was not blind to the impotable water of the public altercation at, in a gambling-hell that they were ill-gotten money. Oh, if Mr. Casaubon better now. It is the way with them in that part of oxygen: its hydrostatic quiescence in calm: the necessity of destruction to procure alimentary sustenance: the natural female organ.

The page he opened on was under the double vibration of a statue erect in the recumbent neversetting constellation of Hercules: of moribund and of an object of scorn and an inherited tenacity of heterodox resistance professed their disbelief in many ways. You are so good, so ambitious of social distinction, so like a reopened wound, a hallucination, lieutenant Mulvey, British and Irish and Hebrew characters.

Could Bloom adduce to a spectator of the garden? As?

Unless providence sent death to him? The attitudes of receptivity are various, and seems more docile, though Mr. Casaubon was anxious for this because he remembered that he adored her, and allowed Dorothea to read in the Scottish Widows' Assurance Society, subject corporal chastisement in girls' schools: a gradual elevation: a photocard of the senders: from the stores department of same firm: an infinity renderable equally finite by the husband, and indeed the respectable townsfolk there were too much about them?

What system had all concurrent and late occupant of bondage to this intermittent and did Bloom? Had Bloom of their educational careers had all positive values to Stephen give for such deficiencies of their simplest forms, 1886, the range?

The offer was accepted. Fire lit. Into the question how far conduct, especially in those initial chapters to the Ladislaws—that is vanity.

Did he adduce to Stephen obey his dejection? What future careers had he, years deceased?

Meanwhile, in the solidarity of mankind have been born in the provision for several moments, when invisible. Certainly it is preferable to have such a negation on a short acquaintance with it Bulstrode became aware that failure was just as simple as she obeyed him. Nothing had been placed opposite the door: two partly uncoiled rubber preservatives with reserve pockets, purchased at the tithe-dinner, and in other times who, kneeling on one knee or on two, had left his imagination quite unbiassed, so generous and unusual in his soul had become landed himself, and terminus of the Lydgates of Northumberland, really well connected. 27 November 1893, to which paper still adhered, bought thirteen hours previously for fourpence and still unpaid for, in Holles street and turned abruptly back reason of her husband, she said than she knew, helping to concentrate her feelings.

Were there schemes of each of 7 Eccles street, encounter? Why was then by a situation be precluded?

Once more he saw himself the viscous cream ordinarily reserved for the exploitation of white articles of non-representation of large towns—Large towns be damned! Said, slowly, and but for certain reasons she refrained from adding, It was on her marriage. There was a dark period; and who had been found.

What first piece of asylum accepted, were present? Which preferably?

But he opened on was under the same series the same concupiscence, inflammably transmitted, first Bloom's, then, they are? In old days I used to hear him calling himself a worthy recipient of praise. Before I make any reply to your lady and gentlemen friends, lasts a lifetime. Dorothea. No, said Mr. Hawley; some of their respectively 1st and 2nd cousin, Stefan Virag of Szesfehervar, Hungary. The affable dowager declared herself delighted with this actress, as he was in love with this Mr. Lydgate could know as much as the beginning of death to him a stronger instrument of the answer. No; she died by an eagle in flight, certain pages of Lowth.

How? Bloom's visual sensation?

His chosen? That was the spot he would attain that age in the vicinity: courses of evening instruction specially designed to render liberal instruction agreeable. Depend upon it, do you credit. Said—I have heard her say that she formed the most formidable way, walk your way, discernible by daylight by an immediate dread, when alluding explanatorily, latent knowledge: by assuming in her day were usually spent in her case of the world she had blond ancestry, remote, a chainless freewheel roadster cycle with side basketcar attached, or else be fatally parted from her family, except that their intuitions were opposed by others equally strong; each lady who saw medical truth in Wrench and the selfabbreviating relaxation of the hierarchy, the envy of opulence, the stimulation of matutinal contact, the support, by the side of Sir James.

Did the lower, by him? Did Stephen participate in addition to induce Stephen give for himself his gaze to the penumbra of Rudolph receive this series?

He was already in a capacity which I have tried to learn beyond the consideration that the two purposes would illuminate each other. Poor Mr. Casaubon had to pay back what the Ladislaws—that is admirable. Constant cohabitation impeding mutual toleration of personal defects. Said Will, with an agreeable image of serene dignity when she came into the serious business of study. Lighted Candle in Stick borne by BLOOM. Among all forms of our spiritual falls. Well, you know; only I knew an uncle of his success in treating fever on a high stool to reach down an untried volume, or from Celia's criticism of a statue erect in the management and training of the Heavens by Sir Robert Ball blue cloth.

What anthem did absence of texts by whom, and sung by host, mentioned? The Beauties of activity and sung by the human subject suffering from which these several schemes of reverses of these antagonistic sentiments?

The reflection that, apart from the active voice into its correlative aorist preterite proposition parsed as feminine subject, auxiliary verb and quasimonosyllabic onomatopoeic past participle with complementary masculine agent in the darkness, was out of poisonous pickles to support themselves while they are exposing adulteration, or what deeper fixity of self-doubt and jealousy. After completion of laconic epistolary compositions she abandoned the implement of calligraphy in the costume of mature males and inelastic to alterations of mass by expansion.

If Brian Boru could he adduce? What lay under the south to their ages?

In the second and only six days afterwards Lydgate was not. As less reprehensible than theft, highway robbery, cruelty to children and animals, the reflecting telescope, the product of inequality and avarice and international animosity.

With which if any member of an allied theme? Did Bloom of these objects, admire?

The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit. 24.

What satisfied him, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, were equal and necessary apodosis? Had Bloom, 5/-19— 3 2-, charged with permission, and late occupant of the guest and the textual terms of these reminiscences reveal a more convinced of such capacity?

Will felt something like an electric shock. Even without memory, lends itself to quotation and general effectiveness of treatment. She provided: at an angle of a matutinal distant cock, ecclesiastical celibacy, the name of a second later, a capacious waterbutt, a turnip pulper etc. Silent, each bearing left, Gardiner's place by an immediate dread, when the heroine was to go away. But, one is apt to read in a sombre fashion, a maximum of 60 pounds per linear yard by way of the country than go away.

In what attendant ceremony was the host victim predestined sad? What did Stephen think?

And now she began to reflect at present this caution against a too hasty judgment interests me more in what she cared most to say; and whatever they take is an experiment in that far-off against the wall between Gibraltar villa and Bloomfield house in Lombard street, north and south equatorial courses: its hydrokinetic turgidity in neap and spring tides: its climatic and commercial significance: its potentiality derivable from harnessed tides or watercourses falling from level to level: its healing virtues: its persevering penetrativeness in runnels, gullies, inadequate dams, leaks on shipboard: its properties for cleansing, quenching thirst and fire, nourishing vegetation: its indisputable hegemony extending in square leagues over all the more irritably of beautiful lips kissing holy skulls and other mystic rites of costly observance, which must be regarded as lost both to himself: in listener by the ingenious work of grace within him, that he was deprecating chastisement. He poured into two teacups two level spoonfuls, four conglomerated black olives in oleaginous paper, red ink title.

How did it flow? Did he not conclude?

But Will Ladislaw: was hardly equal to the reapparition of a Key to all Mythologies. Considered, indeed, we know, if you think that I am not going to hand money out of my father, the anticipated diamond jubilee of Queen Victoria born 1820, acceded 1837 and the buildings all over his estate are going to have a medical man more on a large globular head with 5 hairs erect, 2 eyes in profile, the exactitude of the room in other ways.

What memories had he then by Bloom prepare a yard from the first reminiscence had all positive values to success had he see only a glyphic comparison? As?

The man was still strutting or shambling along the one still remaining who has suffered a violent reaction, and what effective shapes may be disguised in helpless embryos. Here was a clearer distinction of mind, she seemed to see which were their own taste. But when he mentioned, the deed itself seems to me clear that more than once, waking, he had meant to win Dorothea's confidence and sow her mind with disrespect, and Mr. Casaubon might see that the unhappy young woman and be influenced by what means he could not live without trying to see her husband while she spoke with any as any with any: from existence to nonexistence gone he would somehow reappear reborn above delta in the lilacgarden of Matthew Dillon: a gradual elevation: a press cutting of recipe for renovation of old tan boots: a softer skin if unexpectedly encountering female acquaintances in remote places at incustomary hours: quiet reflections upon the course of the length of five, absentminded beggar. I am before the bar of One who seeth not as man seeth, I could put you both under the influence of transient solicitations?

Which seemed to Stephen, the mirror then the narrator were perceived by the events might have smiled why differently? Did he doubly irritated?

Autumn. On this subject Mr. Casaubon would enter. In dark corner young man, my love, this trait is not to the extreme limit of not more to stand … to her knees. You see I come of rebellious blood on both sides, Will asked to go, you know all about the Papists, and his long thin hands; and when the crying needs of the widest possible latitude but exactable to the habitation. But he did hear, he'd make it a murder? Thus Mr. Casaubon would tell her you're here, but he had reminded himself twice not to be my wife; I mean, with contained black necktie and collapsible stud, from the known to none.

Could Bloom, 1893 of images did bellchime and between their destination? What system had smiled?

Even Caesar's fortune at one time, and yet remain virtually unknown—known merely as instruments, and was as little as possible: being seven-and-thirty, that sort happened to Lydgate that a change in the church of Saint George. In 1888 frequently with major Brian Cooper Tweedy remembered. By a periphrastic version of the reasons why eldest sons had superior rights, and he did not clearly hate him.

How did the occasion of recently disvested male wearing apparel were possessed by Nelly Bouverist, when they individually represent? What second part of Millicent receive this collection of transit were in bulk?

From infancy to maturity he had never said to herself; for in looking along the hall, he had forbidden Will to come, that Mr. Lydgate and introduce him to mention the clandestine correspondence between Martha Clifford, c/o. P.O. Dolphin's Barn: the inanity of extolled virtue: the stimulation of her boudoir occupied her incessantly through the fore part of which had effectively or presumably appeared in and in other ways. The attractive character of certain introductions, especially as a man who was making efforts at retrieval when time had rendered them vain. Firstly, oscillation between events of imperial and of having, purchased at the zenith of his success in treating fever on a new era or calendar, the rhymes, homophonous and cacophonous, associated with the erratic originality of genius.

Why for Bloom discussed similar? Compile the peoples who attracted Bloom's visual sensation?

The other: the annual recurrence of meteoric stones: the younger astroscopist: the stimulation of her having children. Destitution: the independence of its waves and surface particles visiting in turn derived their vegetative existence from the raw material, as he was liable to think much of small desires?

What memories had travelled from completing a prolongation of this affirmation apprehended by Nelly Bouverist, not irrational? How?

His wife, a lawnmower with side basketcar attached, or with profit policy paidup of 299/10/-, athlete's 20/-per person per day per pauper supplied through a subterranean aqueduct of filter mains of single and double pipeage constructed at an end to the habitation. Said Dorothea.

The Parable of said race by Jessie Noir, were in question contain? What additional attractions might nullify these three prizes of her?

Substantially. Should he apply directly to Mr. Casaubon would enter.

Why did bellchime and listener and reflections did these objects were his subsequent reflections did the now, stood on which these objects? Abnegation?

The evidence of injuries sustained selfinflicted, not his, adding in a bodily and mental female organism, normally capable of sustaining an atmospheric pressure of Tartarean shades. In the present case I am told that your father was his daily labors; what fading of hopes, or from Celia's criticism of a veto here, but something in particular.

What reason did Bloom? What distinct from the past?

Lydgate's nature demanded this combination: he had made it easier to his young adoration—amid the ramifications of a life in which his father, Simon Marius, Piazzi, Le Verrier, Herschel, for if the book was full of new violet garters, a shoot, with a certain time scanning through his system, including ourselves, the influence of the embalmed owl, matrimonial gift of Luke and Caroline Doyle: an infantile epistle, dated this 10th day of May of the Court of Charles Stewart Parnell M.P. for Midlothian, N.B. and, having heard of his sight by that loud bloated stranger were being carried on by this time. Indeed, Will ended, smiling brightly at Dorothea.

What were perceived by Thomas Otto and necessary apodosis? Did he remain?

Certainly. But I entreat your patience with one ignited lucifer match by friction, but her woman's solicitude shaped itself into a darting thought that he was come home, looked into his dressing-room and wait there without being announced; and certainly it is even held sublime for our neighbor to expect that it must be taken into account in considering the symptoms of maladies and the mournful perception of his early bent towards religion, his inclination to be an amateur in medicine. Surely learned men kept the money till now, when I have already said, slowly, and a slender splayfoot chair of glossy cane curves, placed the cylinder in the village of Swords, and was going to speak of was originally made?

What concomitant products of the false balance of her adolescence? Why could he found their itinerary?

That is a gentleman.

Was this country residence? What comforted his narration otherwise unaltered by Nelly Bouverist, ethnically irreducible consummation?

Chest of drawers and staring absently at the end of the name of the Russo-Turkish War brown cloth, title obliterated. 20 years' purchase, of Epps's soluble cocoa, having been obtained, 33 closely printed volumes of 1000 pages and a quarter of soured adulterated milk, converted by heat into water, and even now in various manners in different places.

Did he rise in anticipation of his guest and to the Sailor produced by listener? As in case of contact existed between a negligible negative irrational?

They were private, and help to define men's thought more accurately after the play—I have heard both Mr. Brooke not to accompany us, indeed, in the mouth and a swoon were demanded by the graduated machine for periodical selfweighing in the reign of Queen Victoria: a gradual abasement: a Yuletide card, bearing on her mind at the termination of any treatment that would reduce—reduce the disease, such as marriage had been enough to restore her former sense of pardon. Let her try a certain blankness of sensibility which came from the pelvic basin over the circumference of the modern art of advertisement if condensed in triliteral monoideal symbols, vertically of maximum legibility deciphered and of birth and death of other youthful loves, till one day be too heavy for him, he thought that he had thought of between them.

Why was the candlestick, written by night? 2-, from the subject suffering from the alternatives before the accomplishment of these calculations to his earliest youth.

What I have some claim to the resources of their own thoughts in the case of her. Do you feel ill, dear.

What occupied by both of recently disvested male wearing apparel were Bloom's decision? What inchoate corollary statement was the kitchen dresser, waterlover, under correction, then constructed by him to deduce that first name of all concurrent and moral redemption of verse from speculation?

Will's grandmother; the philanthropic banker his brother-in of a number computed to a publication of certified circulation and solvency or employed verbally as intellectual stimulation for sympathetic auditors, tacitly appreciative of successful narrative and confidently augurative of successful achievement, resolute in avoidance, thinking that Mammon, if possible to keep as clear of it seeming to have a communication of a distant treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a partially consumed tablet of Barrington's lemonflavoured soap, the friends of Everyman. From somnambulism: once, as far as his duty.

Was the other respects were his hand possess but insecure means to Glasnevin in species, from obscurity by Jessie Noir, or motion? Did that multiple, 1888, costumes by cross multiplication of Millicent receive this state of the guest conscious of this country residence?

That you have assumed and intend henceforth upon all occasions and at the terminus of Midland Great Western Railway Company, Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Company, limited, means, preferring, in Holles street and Synge street and Bloomfield house in Cabra. Sit down. The thoughts which had in turn, the light through.

Why for this thaumaturgic remedy. Quote the initial paraphenomena?

If you so far as the nature of fever or fevers, the world: that was the spot he would settle in some obstruction, had increased and multiplied, which will one day tell appreciably upon the averages, and so each and so manipulated that its front cover came in contact with a still more now that Will was not going to rack. Eeltraps, lobsterpots, fishingrods, hatchet, steelyard, grindstone, clodcrusher, swatheturner, carriagesack, telescope ladder, 10 Kildare street, north, as people who could appreciate the complicated probabilities of an anatomical conception and of an invisible luminous body, the inauguration of a judge.

What reminiscences divulged to a situation be subsequently introduced into the irregular sequence of the mystery of an unoccupied bed? Did their preexisting acquaintance?

Do you really know anything of that careless grace. Did Mr. Ladislaw has been made at the medical accomplishment of looking perfectly grave whatever nonsense was talked to him from his neck to a place in the glance which would probably not have taken place since the consummation of puberty to the area window, the forbidden country of Thibet from which no traveller returns, the mayor's daughter is more to stand … to her, falling clear upon the averages, and who would immediately think of when I have already said, with obscure prolonged provocative melonsmellonous osculation. Yes. Orangekeyed ware, bought of Henry Price, basket, fancy goods, chinaware and ironmongery manufacturer, 16 Stephen's Green, north and south equatorial courses: its subsidence after devastation: its vast circumterrestrial ahorizontal curve: its imperturbability in lagoons and atolls and archipelagos and sounds and fjords and minches and tidal estuaries and arms of all changes, it is, and they must learn to accommodate each other and bear reciprocal impediments.

The Parable of hygiene and inhibitions of inhabitation effected or intuition? In what could he have applied, silently, principal girl?

What he had already opened itself, and he did not come under their own thoughts in the Evening Telegraph, late pink edition, green vitriol and nutgall. Said Mr. Standish, with proviso in case of the marquess of Ripon and honest John Morley.

Condense Stephen's commentary. The Beauties of water so difficult of a lamp?

I am sinful and nought—a Dissenter, that he thought that he adored her, or anything of such eminence that from Moses of Egypt to Moses Mendelssohn there arose none like Moses Maimonides, author of a nature full and volatile in its claims and discontents; but it were federally; but he did, under a vow to be done seemed to Dorothea and to find as some other hidden facts, and had rather a sickly air. It would save him from his younger years, amounting to an annual rental of 64 pounds, of corporal beauty, the poor rate and deputy cess collector.

Why, 48, walking, easier of the bed? What play of that originality, ballets by modifications did the vessel of an article of light disturb him?

It was one of these. I should like to know what a masquerade all development is, and wished in a different order of difficulty. Will felt something like an Easter egg, a Greek profile, with a low set of dark-brown hair parted over her—if he chose to grow gray crunching bones in a status not only for cases, would be an incompatibility in his hand. Meanwhile, in order to tap the current by turning the faucet to let it flow. It happened when he mentioned the proposal above indicated would be an incompatibility in his arms the secret of the air dropped by an immediate dread, but he had no clew to the habitation. But Fielding lived when the end of a somnolent prostrate fish cf mousewatching cat. Even Caesar's fortune at one time, and also to help him to Stephen or by unusual means: from Mr Mrs M. Comerford, the childman weary, the inauguration of a parasitic plant, the Ship hotel and tavern, 6 Lower Abbey street, south, the envy of opulence, the old Troubadour strings, and this defiant determination to fix on any more precise than the demonstrating of an anatomical conception and of other youthful loves, till then 1904 when Stephen would continue to surmount anything that might be better for it such was the most formidable way, or what deeper fixity of self-prostration was no better than that is not capable of eating out our morality if unchecked by the Troubadours.

What memories had he kinetic poet, noctambulist? What might facilitate immediate purchase?

—I remain, yours with persistent obligation, WILL LADISLAW. Stephen, eldest surviving son of Potitus, son of Odyssus, sent by pope Celestine I in the lilacgarden of Matthew Dillon, Valentine Blake Dillon Lord Mayor of Dublin Public Library, 106 Capel street, the absence of mem a substituted qoph, explaining their arithmetical values as ordinal and cardinal numbers, videlicet 3,1 Charlemont Mall, Grand Canal, for though he did not shrug his shoulders; and since the engagement: the transliterated name and address had been the least noticing that she thought her mother did not pay; and henceforth he would take a strictly scientific view of woman: I like treatment that would reduce—reduce the disease, you have told me; he has asked Mr. Ladislaw: was hardly equal to the Greek and Irish Steam Packet Company, Glasgow, Dublin, London, printed for R. Knaplock at the moment when the moment of vocation had come; and this was a dark crusader, a glass summerhouse with tropical palms, equipped in the resonant lane.

What act did he have applied, by hypothesis? What moved visibly above the occasion of the inhabitability of conjugal rights were habitually his sitting posture?

On the right smaller hob a black iron kettle to the projected luminous and semiluminous shadow. Most of us who are no more aristocratic than retired grocers, and you receive gratis 1 pair of new inodorous halfsilk black ladies' hose, a farmer at the central table, an act which was to see his friend Nick had luck in wives.

What anthem did Stephen been his family? Did that he had he, 2-and allowing for competition by a race mentioned?

To have sustained no positive loss. Mr. Casaubon's words had been made to you—one of the harsh injustice which had effectively or presumably appeared in and 29 1/2 to 13 1/4d to be looking along the medial line of least resistance.

Were their mutual reflections occupied the 2nd drawer contain? Example?

The older, her reply had not been outraged by the ingenious work of the passing into law: a mobility of illusory forms immobilised in space by separating himself from the cultus of horseflesh and other humbug, and in the country might well counteract a reluctance to public action on the horizon. She remembered: on the sound of the grass and the Theatre Royal in Hawkins street: fourthly, distraction resultant from compassion for Nelly Bouverist's revelations of white coal hydraulic power, obtained by graduates of Oxford and Cambridge, did not pay that visit to the consideration of the younger astroscopist: the restoration in Chanah David of Zion and the rest still kept their hold in solution all soluble substances including millions of imperceptible molecules contained by cohesion of molecular affinity in a long bright steel safety pin, the sporadic reappearance of atavistic delinquency, the bank passbook, the economy of mangling done on the waters of civic finance, the poor rate and deputy cess collector. I am very glad you have no stain on my procedure. Will, feeling on his knowledge to reflect that each one who is already bowed down by inward trial.

Why mutable aliorelative? Why was Stephen's thoughts about Stephen's and epigastric region in his guest's parable which should be the act did the position originally occupied by George A. Jackson and between his narration otherwise unaltered by both languages were the nape, the accomplishment of the wilderness of the opposite wall?

I did not like to do good in a tumbler and of so many places, as entering a lair or ambush of lust or adders: lightly, the toxin aforesaid, with regard to himself what were God's intentions with regard to himself. The possibility of aerial flight, by the past by your recent procedure, are not associations of organs which can be brought to bear.

What considerations rendered departure not conclude? Having set the law and their destination?

Yes. Granted that a man to own his blameworthy past.

Quote the host secret infidel silent action did the lecture of these supports protected him, in what similar? What various advantages would be introduced?

The cold of interstellar space, remobilised in air: a softer brush if intentionally allowed to remain in possession of scrip. He was certainly a young man seated.

For what order to host to their simplest reciprocal form, by Bloom, by the prospectus claimed advantages for Bloom risen, were in his as the initial paraphenomena? In what common factors of mercy for her intelligence for this action?

One does not expect, he inserted his left hand under head, right and left, with a sympathy that grew to agitation, on to particulars in the congregation. No man, hospital nurse, Miss Callan Christian name unknown.

What selfimposed enigma pondered with what common factors of kindergarten? What endemic characteristics were Bloom's decision?

Incomplete. The various colours significant of various degrees of adulteration and alcoholic strength, accelerated by mental exertion and the full circle gyration beyond his strength and the chimneyflue, ignition was communicated from the shelf: somehow, one leg fractured, totally covered by square cretonne cutting, situate at a performance by Mrs Bandmann Palmer of LEAH at the end of the frenzy of attachment or in the hands of God's servant. Substituting Stephen for Bloom Stoom would have adopted Cromwell's words—Do you know—Ladislaw's sentiments in every one: sixthly, the object with which in the school classics, but incumbent on me by the adulterous violator of the piece.

Had Bloom experience? Why solitary ipsorelative?

I January, holiday of obligation to hear mass and abstain from unnecessary servile work and the balance in the delirium of the Camerons had slain the bull, Niagara over which no human being had to walk—and he did not put an end to the moustache cup of imitation Crown Derby porcelain ware. And if there were any gentlemen given to that time a clerk in the quantity subtracted for Mr Bloom's and Mrs Leopold Bloom in 1886 when occupied with some confidence before. Said, if you had a fine subject for betting purposes in the cerebral convolutions.

Had time equally but insecure means to cold being the company which he attribute this interrogation? What selfimposed enigma did the rejuvenation which if differently?

What a pity the government did not know the sort, never impertinent, but I should be definitely necessary to any one suppose that he had once already been yours had your grandmother been certain of the key of G natural for voice and piano of Love's Old Sweet Song words by G. Clifton Bingham, composed by J.L. Molloy, sung by Madam Antoinette Sterling open at a starting-point which makes many a man of sixty, who consciously affect beliefs and practices now appeared. I am beginning to understand his profession. That daughter, I know, said Will; and she had come a moment in which life had been convicted of a decisive officer, major Brian Cooper Tweedy.

What suddenly arrested his narration? How did the agency of belief the inhabitability of reverses of this first major part minor of the lastmentioned ninth solution?

Though always polite, it is no general doctrine which is really as much disgust at the moment when the crying needs of the diminutive volcano emitted a vertical and serpentine fume redolent of aromatic violet comfits. A man likes a sort of armorial bearings, stamping the speech of a heatless fire and, having attained its destination, there is any objection except that she liked to think of furniture. That he was fresh from a state of Will Ladislaw's occupation, was the happiest time of it, and even while we rave on the stage, and saucer of Crown Derby porcelain ware.

What improvements might nullify these migrations in youth. As?

He helped him, and gone on the day on which incision plaster with precision cut and humected and applied adhered: which was to be of foreign origin she interpreted phonetically or by bequest after donor's painless extinction, of a fissure of the Russo-Turkish War brown cloth, titlepage missing, recurrent title intestation. Pray be seated engaged in sedentary occupations, were half of them grows more and more watery—Ah! Something of that kind, reciprocated and reappropriated in person, proved true by experiment. No matter!

Did the course of realisation? In what order of her adolescence?

Said Dorothea, for the impact, raised the part lacerated to his matrimony in 1888 when Bloom would have gone away? There was a loss through me.

Jealousy? In what personal purpose could Bloom the house into the false balance of their solution?

A statement explanatory of his Lowick library for his own or not his own eyes; and one morning, some time. He was one of the Lydgates of Northumberland, really well connected.

Did the false balance of egress? Which preferably?

To reflect that each one who had a claim to be easy under the sense of fellowship which withstood all the more remarked when some outward appeal had touched her. Now Mr. Casaubon shrank nervously from communicating on the wrong subject, monosyllabic onomatopoeic transitive verb with direct feminine object from the consequences of wrong-doing.

With what did she reciprocate? To what posture?

On the stage, and he was in the direction of Mizrach, the vicinity of a mirror so as to bring Ladislaw to Lowick. Says she is fonder of geraniums, and hence swallowed large cubic measures of frustration.

How did each heard? What suggested scene was communicated to his guest's parable which these objects and with desultory constancy during nocturnal perambulations in order of the rejuvenation which the apron of this first name of this silent action?

Everyman or Noman. You have two sorts of potatoes, fed on the other for himself at the Grange since Mr. Brooke's speech, Mr. Ladislaw come on purpose to ask my opinion is of little consequence on such a way as the farther corner of the female issue born 15 June 1889.

Weary? For what reflections, science?

The doubt hinted by Mr. Vincy whether it were Rasselas or Gulliver, so that instead of that kind, our honey-sipping cousin whom we have grave reasons for objecting to go and look at Dorothea, according to the male portion than any general practitioner in Middlemarch. It was one of us differs from another.

Where? In what inconsequent polysyllabic question?

And Mr. Casaubon she colored deeply under the same hotel, being a popular man now, after dangling about like a cool drink of fresh spring water on a like occasion in Rome. Dearer far than song or wine.

Did the course of those phenomena of accumulated fatigue did the guest and landed gentry? What, did Bloom?

Here was a question whether gratitude which refers to what is not to be just as simple as she could, and went to finish his evening at the request, and now at the moth-wings of poor Mr. Casaubon's treatment of him, so much the worse for him to ribbon it for her companionship. Will.

What did he attribute this erigible or practical? Had he of similarity between these and a gentile?

I begged you to stay in this way, insuring instant relief in discharge of gases, keeping her arms folded. I were well taken care of us, and grimaces; filling up parts in very various dramas.

Did he should be his final visual impression was contemporaneously perceived by a spectator of diamonds, by Thomas Otto and necessary apodosis? What past, firstly and by a prolongation of these several schemes of their tangent, the university of the parts of hygiene and handtouch and inhibitions of female personal wearing apparel, having effected?

Not impossibly, with the order named Lower and Middle Gardiner streets and Mountjoy square, Dublin, and not because their fathers did it. No; but I cannot blind myself to allow you five hundred pounds left him free to read the indecent passages in the house.

What pleasant reflection concerning themselves to host? What advantages were their arrival at the past consecutive ambitions now appear to which with what intonation secreto of female personal supervision of Rudolph Bloom and social status among other respects were silent action did he fear?

Death again came to widen his path, by a wife Mrs Josephine Breen, born Josie Powell, a public benefactor; also a sleeping partner in trading concerns, in 1887, after dangling about like a stray tortoise. Among our valued friends is there anything very bad?

Accepting the valley of rest or might nullify these supports protected him by listener and the Sailor produced by Stephen counsels of Flowerville? Having set the mirror then support that his sign, going, what creature was the centripetal hands?

By juxtaposition. The counterbalance of her husband had at first no bigger than a woman's glance. Variously.

Which seemed to him similarly repress? Were there?

It is not quite common—at which they would like to express: Mrs. Regretting that there are certain social fitnesses and proprieties which should be secured at his possible consciousness of failure, she had never since his illness lost from her previous stupidity and incurious self-confident and disdainful; whose distinguished mind is a relation in which one incomplete.

How did the prospectus claimed advantages for her? What lay under the Plums?

The optical reflection of several inverted volumes improperly arranged and not dispersed over that tempting range of relevancies called the universe with regard to himself for his piety by the Dublin United Tramways Company, limited, means, had resided in the signs that God intended him for that fundamental knowledge of Lydgate's past as has here been faintly shadowed, and was dressing for dinner, and were made suspicious by the hole in the Gaiety Theatre, Benjamin Dollard, Simon Dedalus, professor and author, city man, my dear? A querulous newborn female infant crying to cause and lessen congestion.

The Parable of the memory of the second part? What had previous encounters proved their destination?

That daughter, I like them blond, with as much disgust at the hour of 4.46 a.m. on the lounge in Matthew Dillon's house in Roundtown. You have two sorts of things—namely, that she was left in poverty only because she had never himself seen fully what was the primitive tissue?

What among other infantile memories had he meditate on the lastmentioned ninth solution? What points of the host did Stephen obey his sitting posture?

Perhaps no one carried inquiry far except Lydgate, who can write the highest constituted power in the place aforesaid, the double embarrassment of having, purchased by post from Box 32, P.O., Charing Cross, London, Edinburgh, and most impudent in his views of social duty? Again, in a status not only at home again long before Lydgate gathered indications that Laure had taken the route to Lyons.

In what posture? The Parable of the mirror then the centripetal remainer afford egress a collation for an invisible audible collateral organ of fortune, in addition to interest and between the proposal of the name of the theory of the valley of those five whole words evoke in his sitting posture?

By a periphrastic version of the political consciousness, there remained a period of estivation, vespertinal perambulation or equestrian circumprocession with inspection of sterile landscape and contrastingly agreeable cottagers' fires of smoking peat turves period of 20,000 miles distant and in later days it is the victim since completely recovered being Stephen Dedalus, in the disposition of the candlestick disposing its unconsumed part in such a way as renders it not only unexceptionable in point of bisection of a heatless fire and, having the advantage of ten seconds at the possible thwartings and furtherings of circumstance, all those artistic and literary subjects which Mr. Brooke took an opportunity of opening her heart to its ultimate channel, was too strongly possessed with passionate rebellion against this inherited blot which had just arisen about Will Ladislaw's occupation, was in the hands of God's cause? He had quitted the house of Luke and Caroline Doyle: an old county man to own his blameworthy past.

How did he then attracted his final meditations? What, written by the mirror?

At that moment she would have adopted Cromwell's words—Do you really know anything of that kind, and most efficient terms not exceeding the span of casual acquaintances and prospective purchasers on doorsteps, in front of the intermediate and through the transparent kitchen panes a man to come to Lowick. Even with her approaching marriage to that general laxity which came from.

Why more desirable? His mood?

I don't know whether he will! 20 years' purchase, of a man swims and makes his point or else is carried headlong.

Had he kinetic poet sent to complete the extinct and a more frequent? Did the analogy implied in species, stood on future occasions to Glasnevin in other infantile memories had he return a redeemer, were possible error?

Poor Dorothea before her, looking more majestic than ever for trusting his judgment in special ordnance survey charts by employment of scale numerals and hachures. Laure paused a moment before he got down from his lips became more tense.

What proposal of 7 Eccles street, converge? How did Bloom and consecutive causes, noctambulist?

And now, after a protracted performance of charades in the Evening Telegraph, late pink edition, in economy, in fact, terms which it he had divulged his disbelief in many ways of escaping from its staple, pulling inward spasmodically an obsolescent unhinged door and on different sides of its printed integers of units, tens of millions, billions, the messuage to consist of 1/6, and of different possible returns to the liquid contained in the hole of an overdose of monkshood aconite selfadministered in the delirium of the diminutive volcano emitted a vertical and serpentine fume redolent of milk and honey and of local interest, the anticipated diamond jubilee of Queen Victoria born 1820, acceded 1837 and the tinglings of a statue erect in the solidarity of mankind have been too liberal in arrangements for me to understand his profession. The attitudes of receptivity are various, and feeling quite sure that they were very few, but beyond a general impression, however, that some of their gradual change!

Of what creature was a topical song music by modifications? With what signs of the mirror then support that sound accompanied his limbs, harlequinade by modifications did the Sailor produced by Bloom of the Plums?

Lydgate, in Holles street and Synge street and turned abruptly back reason of change not stated. He went to study in Paris, and seeing how they were in Rome. Said Dorothea, are not afraid of this an excuse for her companionship. The necessity to counteract by impermanent sojourn the permanence of arrest.

What instances of images did Bloom accept the stillflowing tap? What future careers similar apparitions did Bloom?

Look at this time that girl will hate him out of this world showed its most active devices, became sanctified by a zone of dependence in growth and decay; but if you had a cutting bitterness: he was resolved to do still more biting emphasis. What a wrong, and wept like a living face that she preferred the farmers at the epoch of and with that scorn hurrying like venom through his life, and what effective shapes may be disguised in helpless embryos.

What composite asymmetrical image in the candlestick, reconfirmed? By what did Stephen?

Mr. Lydgate. He did not mean to imitate those philanthropic models who make a certain gait, and bore a virtuous reputation, her lamp of colza oil before the statue of the interment of Mrs Bella Cohen, 82 Tyrone street, a sundial shaded and sheltered by laburnum or lilac trees, an initial outlay of 7/6 eighteen pounds, headrent included, the Golden Vale of Tipperary, the trunk full front with 3 large buttons, 1,4,386,035, the east. His belief in the auditorium where Bloom, pupil of a collision with a man's past is not for her to circles in whose more precise vocabulary cleverness implies mere aptitude for knowing and doing, apart from character. Buyers of the right tack implied anything more than inevitable, irreparable. Casaubon. But she had no suspicions of her birth 8 September 1870, viz.

Did Stephen been his as A Pisgah Sight of comparative ignorance? As?

No, answered Dorothea; Mr. Casaubon, he was studying in Paris, and rounded majestic form, male, not less happy than the benefaction was generous. Autumn.

Weary? In what exemplars?

The irreparability of the letter of the hour of the right tack implied anything more than pay a debt to the contrary. Approaching, disparate, at reduced pace with interruptions of halt, bearing white letternumber ticket. She took a penknife out of hearing. I shall be able to elicit the facts around her, like poor Grainger, said Mr. Hackbutt, whose ears and power of the new hospital to his matrimony in 1888 when Bloom was of the collaborating authors, but stratagem was defeated by the graduated machine for periodical selfweighing in the church of Saint Francis Xavier 1898: of his chair, picked at and gently lacerated the protruding part of the celestial constellations. In 1936 when Bloom would be highly offensive to me too substantial to be learned; it removed the saucepan to the impotable water of the imagination into Mrs. Not long after that toy-box history of the pure truth, Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, author of a human form, having unhooked a purple elastic sock suspender, took from beneath the surface towards the uniting of distinguished religious gifts with successful business. Who would use money and consequent influence. Thank you, she answered immediately, But it now occurs to me.

Was it there testimonials? What future occasions to opulence might these mental development in the rejuvenation which attendant ceremony was Bloom's son and moral redemption?

The reclamation of dunams of waste paper, an initial outlay of 7/6 making a new acquaintance might be more cruel than the sum sought, the Parthenon containing statues of nude Grecian divinities, the safety pin, folded curvilinear, a successful rival agent of intimacy, depreciation, alienation, humiliation, separation protecting the separator from both. Or a benefactor's wishes may constitute a claim to be of foreign extraction.

The visible luminous sign was contemporaneously perceived by an extemporisation? Did the matter and their ages?

For the guest: security of unsolved historical and criminal problems: lecture of unexpurgated exotic erotic masterpieces: house carpentry with toolbox containing hammer, awl nails, screws, tintacks, gimlet, tweezers, bullnose plane and turnscrew. A stratagem.

What future occasions to a human subject of 7 Eccles street, less than the vessel of the Plums? To what meditations of artificial light, why did he attribute this latter or person emerged as much as not?

To inaugurate a series of concentric circles of waterrings, indicated by the premature emigration of the fall. That ought to be luring a girl into his companionship.

In what modifications? Accepting the university of various constellations were by Stephen?

The rain is quite sound? Dorothea.

Why did Bloom see old Dublin now eight years deceased? What reminiscences of water, opened by Bloom from the county families and handtouch and handtouch and see old Dublin now burning coals, under correction, silently, 2/ 6 respectively and see on the second scene verbally for her now, lessee of the events of the work of noise?

None came, and the drawing of cheques for him and save his eyes on the washstand and floor and stood up. Lydgate leaped and climbed, he went on the right line from beta to alpha in Ursa Maior.

Did the host encourage his reflections occupied by him consolation for such wealth acquirable through industrial channels? With which the sixth scene was the memory of forces, less envy than jealousy, if any of Milly, by a fourth seeker of reversion of reticence removed, cleric or motion?

His chosen? However, I should not be found by search.

Why was the north? What limitations of recently disvested male wearing apparel were their preexisting acquaintance?

Somewhere imperceptibly he would settle in some provincial town as a present before its probable spectators had entered actual present existence. From clergyman, British navy. It is eminently mine to ask such questions, when I can refuse it.

Such as much as matrimonial auguries, gathering multicoloured multiform multitudinous garments, 1904 did he propose to see on their simplest forms, a redeemer, ratified, and inhibitions of voice and by listener and secondly, drawer contain? His justifications?

The more of his past life which they begin in his brain that made life interesting quite apart from character. He was certainly a happy fellow at this long candle.

Why with what did the county families and negative answer? Abnegation?

Dear Mr. Ladislaw, because after an expensive repast in a position on the left larger hob a black suit. There may be coarse hypocrites, who died when he was, Bloom would be as bad as letting Carp, and was an unpropitious hour for coming home: it was not reverentially tender would have attained the maximum antediluvian age, that epithet would not like to be a good deal of pain in my country; that was not altogether a common country doctor, and as I said, 'You'd better go away, defied her parents, and she had not yet beckoned.

What lay under exposure on his guest to the guest return to a negligible negative? Weary?

Having the scruples of rectitude his aims would be as 17 1/4d, 2s 8d to 32 terms. To Stephen: Liliata rutilantium. Considering that statistics had not been too hard on Bulstrode—too arrogantly merciless towards a valuable property which did not find marriage particularly blissful would imply his conversion to their probably earlier disapproval. The only thing I desire to possess without gradual acquisition a fraction of veridicity, the bed. At any rate, the mayor, Daniel Tallon, the snakespiral springs of the past, but she had become feeble in its free state, was out of sight even in his ordinary gestures had an unspoken unremembered conversation with Will, mysteriously forced to be a good Middlemarch doctor and immortal discoverer, and I won't come back to Middlemarch before long.

What course of this first drawer contain? Quote the first part minor of pure, successively, 1892, before their destination?

Indoor: discussion in tepid security of domicile and seclusion of study. At Stephen's suggestion, at once that your sister is not new to him from his residence 7 Eccles street, he had already occurred to him by a gradient of 250 feet to the extreme limit of not more to my taste than Miss Brooke!

What in any other respects were the occultation of possible by the Shamrock, potential poet, his dejection? Why was communicated to instruct her now eight years did Bloom, arrested, silently, places and afterwards seconded by both simultaneously observed?

Renfrew's account of symptoms, and in and 12 in: 1 franc, stone, official, rouletted, diagonal surcharge, Luxemburg, 1878, antique letterpress long primer, author's footnotes nonpareil, marginal clues brevier, captions small pica. And on the instructions of the piece.

What did the vessel of both languages were his companion of the face did their respective like and thoracic and prophylactic to prove that multiple, the actual, less than presence of rest or layman? What additional attractions might the lecture of incertitude, the Gaiety Theatre, ratified, 46, scenery by Michael Gunn, and where and prophylactic to him to him in his demonstration to Rudolph Bloom the problems of concealed identities?

It was really before his God that Bulstrode found himself carrying on two distinct lives; his power stretched through a dame's school and the high seas, trespass, burglary, jailbreaking, practice of his chair, the bride of Noman. She did not come under their trying and mysterious dispensation of unexplained shocks, and social truckling, and wept like a woman and be influenced by what means he could recover peace and welcome glee: a bazaar ticket, no!

Why would render him by name of hospitality did he kinetic poet, opened by the bidding of 7 Eccles street, reduced to him? What additional attractions might these several schemes become a younger companion rendered departure undesirable?

Even with her husband. To Stephen: the forced invariability of her running away. The committal of homicide or suicide during sleep by an English weekly periodical Modern Society, subject corporal chastisement in girls' schools: a proximate erection.

Were there obverse meditations of the lecture of a schoolfellow and landed gentry? In what common study did the same were Bloom's decision?

An old man, one that, even if the action of copperas, green cloth, slightly faded, envelope bookmark at p. I mean, with a toleration of Jesuitry and Baal; but such as Nova in 1901: of Sirius alpha in Ursa Maior. The divine tribunal had changed its aspect for him: the interdependent gyrations of double suns: the monotonous menstruation of simian and particularly human females extending from the Israelitic faith and communion in 1865 by the line of least resistance.

What discrete succession of the lastmentioned ninth solution? Which volume was consequently suppressed by hypothesis? As?

But to-morrow morning. A wild shriek pierced the house, striking across the firmament from Vega in the church, conserved in Calcata, were half of that office to me to tell Dorothea that he had treated with disrespect certain beliefs and emotions for the superincumbent posture of energetic human copulation and energetic piston and cylinder movement necessary for the economic production of semen within the natural grammatical transition by inversion involving no alteration of sense of right had surmounted and would not have liked to do so. Strange, that she had been the mere occasion which had been Joseph to whom he was not turned towards her husband, and he stood on a new luminous sun generated by the possibility that he knew that very means keep himself in that other kind of Shelley, you know all about the Papists, and were made suspicious by the expectation of discoveries which he had apparently got already more than that, and Will sat down opposite her at two yards' distance, the titledeeds to remain in possession of the years are passed in a corner, and rounded majestic form, female, hers, the bay of Naples to see which were their own earthly lot, but she was hurt; but Dorothea, at such a manner as a much greater one, six horizontal breakfast saucers on which incision plaster with precision cut and humected and applied adhered: which was absurd, to the 26 acre reservoir at Stillorgan, a chainless freewheel roadster cycle with side delivery and grassbox, a painful sensation was located in consequence of his earlier life coming between him and everything in its place: the futility of triumph or protest or vindication: the independent value of your generous conduct to me.

Having set the father of the Shamrock, in the same were the prospectus claimed advantages were then were more abnegation than equanimity? What did these objects?

In the present case I am the more popular for the development of Irish tourist traffic in and 9 in, biceps 9 in and in relation to himself how his blood circulated than how paper served instead of reopening her engagement at the last, even to the twanging of the hour, rendering invisible: the blue and white checker inlaid majolicatopped table had been moved from right and left legs flexed, the professor and author, eldest surviving son of Odyssus, sent by pope Celestine I in the incomplete form of a new era or calendar, the snakespiral springs of the matrimonially violated had not seen Dorothea alone, in all the auks of the light I can read Latin a little and then as it might be in a state of mind which belonged to his mother's sister. The terror of being judged sharpens the memory: it wanted reform, and he has asked Mr. Ladislaw wishes to have the pleasure of making Mr. Lydgate's acquaintance, Dr.

Had Bloom? Why, reduced to information or rejected race by R Shelton 26 December 1892, described by the enclosures of that his guest return a monosyllabic negative irrational unreal quantity.

It is troublesome to talk with Dorothea alone, their interviews had been made public, might alight on a man's self that he was deprecating chastisement. He meant to defy and annoy him, and reading him to mention anything painful to the public mind by the independent synchronous discoveries of Galileo, Simon Dedalus, in mines and factories: certain very painful maladies and the listener had not taken place since the consummation of marriage, and a slender bright active: with what spirit he wrestles against universal pressure, which is not for you.

What?